iisayfa

[iisayfa]

┈─★ 𝙎𝙋𝙀𝙀𝘿. [ch 1: the stupid red mustang]

   ➴ wc + a/n: 4.4k. didn't mean to make the first chapter this long but y'all know how i get <3 hope you enjoy the lil prologue moment!

   ➴ taglist: @urmom2314 @iisayfa @s-p-e-c-t-r-e-s @mei2yok @xochitlisbest

   ➴ prev. masterlist. next.

you can pinpoint, with expert precision, when it was that your entire life began to fall apart. to figure out how it might end, you have to start from the beginning, and a part of you wonders if it was always going to be daniela avanzini that ruined everything for you.

your last few weeks before high school, and you’re stuck in detention. it had all started with a morning full of inconveniences. 

to begin, you usually carpooled with your neighbor, who happens to be your best friend, but she’s been hauled off to some stupid detention center after getting caught with weed, again, leaving you alone for the second half of senior year. friendless, aimless, and useless behind the wheel of a car as you drive yourself every morning, lucky to make it out of that chaotic parking lot alive.

the morning you got detention, you’re already running late, made all the more inconvenient when you’re cut off in the middle of the parking lot by a cherry red mustang. you lay on the horn to let her know she’s cut you off, but the boom of insanely loud rap music blaring out from the windows makes you think the driver isn’t listening.

“fucking idiot,” you snarl, your grip tightening around the steering wheel. the red mustang swings around recklessly to steal the parking spot you were eyeing. perfect. 

the new girl, who had transferred into your grade just after winter break, swings out of the car and heads into the building, unbothered by the interaction. you’re stuck seeking out another parking spot, only adding to your stress of being late again.

you try to make it to your homeroom on time, but you hear the disappointed tisk of your principal’s voice as soon as you think you’re in the clear.

“y/ln, this is the third time this week,” he had told you, writing something on a slip and handing it to you. “you know this means detention, and the next one is a truancy call, right?”

you grit your teeth and send a text to your parents that you’ll be home late. definitely not ideal.

you’d rather be anywhere but this empty classroom, embarrassed to be stuck under the hawk-eyed gaze of the dean. it’s you and a few other kids you recognize from fights or from skipping class. you try to keep to yourself, after all, being late doesn’t exactly fit into what the rest of these troublemakers get up to, but your hopes of focusing on your homework are shattered when you feel someone kick your desk.

then again, then again. you realize the person is bouncing their leg, and it’s causing your chair to shake with every movement.

“avanzini, another speeding ticket in the parking lot or what?” one of the guys grins, to which the dean quickly hushes everyone. you realize he’s talking to the girl behind you, the one shaking your desk. the new girl— avanzini, or whatever her name is. you’re perfectly happy with a small friend group, and hadn't made it a point to introduce yourself to her since she transferred, but judging by the fact that she seems to be a regular detention attendee, maybe that’s for the best.

nearly a half hour passes, but she’s relentless. her leg doesn’t stop bouncing, even once, rocking your chair the entire time. the dean steps out to take a phone call. you’re sick of her incessant kicking against the back of your desk, and finally spin around to snap at her.

“can you please cut that out?”

your eyes meet, and you feel a jolt through your entire body. the way she grins at you, her hazel eyes lighting up, is nothing short of absolutely dangerous.

“i gotta be somewhere real quick. vouch for me?”

“why would i do that?” you ask quickly, shocked by audacity.

all she does is lean in, flashing those bright white teeth at you, unafraid of being in your personal bubble, as if she has no boundaries. “i’ll owe you.”

“i’ll get in trouble,” you state the obvious.

“i’ll owe you a massive favor,” she presses on, and it’s painfully obvious she’s not the type who is used to being told no. 

“just go,” you shake your head. she doesn’t seem like the type you can reason with, this avanzini girl. 

you expect her to leave through the front door, so to your surprise, she bolts towards the window and messes with the hinges for a few moments before she manages to get it open. way too quickly, she slips out of the window without a second look back. you’re almost annoyed, that she sneaks out without so much as a thank you, but maybe she’s not worth the effort to stress over being annoyed with. 

a few minutes pass by, and the dean steps back in. he takes count quickly of the bodies in the room, and notices the spot behind you obviously empty. 

“where’s avanzini?”

“bathroom,” you lie quickly. the other students shoot you approving looks, but you’d rather disappear than to have them acknowledging you. the fact that you’re in this position because of this girl has you even more frustrated than the whole chair-kicking thing. 

the dean steps out once more to search the hallways, and within moments, the girl is tumbling back into the classroom, chest heaving. she’s breathing heavily as if she’s been running, or maybe something had scared her, or even both. she slips back into her chair, dropping her head onto the desk for a quick moment before lifting up to meet your eyes with her own. there’s something so intense in her eyes, something so mischievous and alluring at once, that you feel your pulse quicken.

“i owe you,” she says simply, flashing you a smile, before dropping her head back onto the desk for the rest of the hour. 

after that day, you see the red mustang in your school parking lot, but never cross paths with the girl again.

your best friend misses graduation, and you feel suffocated by the weight of another summer in your city alone, wasting your days trying to keep busy. you disappear once the summer ends, college taking over your life, the city forgotten for the next year until you’re back a summer later. same house, same routine, now a year older and a year wiser, hoping you can make it through the boredom of the summer before you head back to school.

your parents had kept your room exactly how you left it in high school, but there’s something very lame about being stuck a whole summer again in your parents house after a taste of freedom your first year in college. you know it’s only 3 months, and you’re lucky to have a place to come back to, but it’s still fair to be annoyed by, isn’t it?

you had just finished unpacking the last of your suitcases when you hear the thud of something against your window, a few taps in a specific pattern against the glass. living on the first floor, you there’s only one person who would be in your backyard, tapping against your window like that. you gasp and swing the window open, just like how you had done almost every day for the past 13 years.

and slipping into your bedroom is your best friend since you were 6 years old, smiling at you in a way that makes everything feel like it’ll be okay.

“heard you’re back in town,” she says nonchalantly, but you’re already scooping her up in a hug before she can ruin the moment. 

“megan,” your heart thuds at the sight of her. pink bangs covering her tired eyes, oversized hoodie swallowing her frame, she’s exactly like you last remembered her. ”i thought i’d be stuck all summer without you.”

“you know, i was almost scared they wouldn’t let me out. good thing the judge was feeling super chill about bail,” megan grins, giving you a squeeze back, pointing down to the ankle monitor around her leg. “did you miss me, nerd?”

“you’re a whole ass adult now, idiot. this isn’t just juvie upgraded,” you laugh. “how’ve you been?”

“oh you know,” she shrugs. she digs around your nightstand and finds the secret book the two of you had hollowed out to hide your weed from your nosy family, a few pre-rolled joints hiding. she pulls a lighter out from the fold of her beanie, lighting the joint for the both of you. “remember how i told you i moved out after graduation? i have a spot in front of the shop that my boss rents out to me. it’s not too bad. you should come check it out. we can throw a party or something while you’re here.”

“ugh, i’m not gonna know how to act without you as my neighbor,” you groan and throw your head back, reaching for the joint as she takes a few hits and passes it to you. “you’re finally back and you won’t even be next door any more. i might actually miss you, loser.”

“i’ll miss you too. you kept me out of trouble,” she laughs. “my mom was so mad when you moved away for school. knew i was gonna end up doing stupid shit.”

“well, you’ve got me for 3 months, stay out of trouble until then?” you plead. “can’t go losing you. maybe i’ll have to keep an eye on you.”

you and megan had always joked about the curse that had followed her around— this beacon of bad luck, if something can go wrong for her, it usually would. you’ve tried to argue that she’d have better luck if she stopped making all these dumb decisions, but megan’s pretty set in her ways, and even if you worry about her, you know she’s scrappy enough to figure her way out of anything.

“you can come hang out with me at work. it’s slow,” she offers, taking the joint back from you. you watch as she inhales and holds it, doing silly little tricks with the smoke. “the other guys bring their friends all the time when the shop isn’t busy.”

“i won’t annoy you?” you ask. you know the job she’s talking about— megan, who had always been too hyper for any job that didn’t keep her constantly moving, got hired to work at some shady mechanic shop downtown through some burnout friends of hers. this was perfect for your best friend, who was always fidgeting with things, breaking them down, putting them back together, and the owner had even taken her under his wing and looked the other way with her track record. between the shop job and selling weed, megan kept herself decently afloat. 

you wonder if she’d ever be able to channel that energy into something more, but you know that’s a conversation she won’t want to hear.

“hell, you might even make some money. my boss is hiring— he wants a front desk person,” she tells you, nudging your shoulder. “i’ll put in a good word for you.”

“you want to be coworkers?” you question. “what, like we’re friends or something?”

megan pretends to gag, and the two of you laugh and pass the joint between yourselves for the rest of the night, chatting about her night in jail, comparing it to her months spent in juvie as a teenager. you tell her about college, about the friends you’ve made, and you take comfort in knowing that if you’re stuck back home for a summer, at least you get to be stuck with megan too. 

the next day, you’re at velocity automotives, painfully overdressed, talking to the owner and wondering how the hell this place hasn’t gotten shut down yet. it’s messy, tools strewn everywhere, and there’s no clear organization to how anything is set up. without a doubt in your mind, the messiness suits megan, who you see underneath a car in her navy blue coveralls as you talk to her boss about this job she’s setting you up with.

“all you have to do is take phone calls and book the appointments. i’ll handle the rest,” the guy says. he had introduced himself as viper, and at first, you thought he was joking— that is, until literally everyone there keeps calling him “viper,” and you realize he’s dead serious.

“you won’t be here?” you ask.

“i have other businesses in the city. i own apartments, laundromats, storage units.” he squints at you. “can’t be on desk duty the whole time.”

you nod, and hear a clanging noise somewhere behind you that makes you flinch. viper seems completely unbothered and keeps talking.

“it’s an easy job, so don’t expect to be a millionaire.” he goes on. “and the guys will probably hit on you. just ignore them.”

you grimace, but the pay is decent, and the job is easy enough, plus anything that keeps you busy while letting you spend time with your best friend sounds like a huge win. 

“there’s one more thing,” he says. “i need you to stay in the apartment, above the shop.”

the request catches you insanely off guard. “why?”

“some bullshit from the city,” he gripes. “i have to prove it’s a residence or else they’ll make me pay taxes on it as part of the business.”

“you’re offering me a job and a place to stay?” you question. “what’s the catch?”

“didn’t think you’d sound so eager. you’ve got grit, kid. maybe you are skeindiel’s friend after all,” he grins, before issuing another warning. “it’s not luxurious, and those motorheads get loud at night.”

“um, i grew up on sleepovers with megan. that girl snores like she’s dying,” you reassure him. the arrangement is almost too good to be true.

“how soon can you start?” he asks.

“how soon can i move in?” you counter.

viper smiles once more, a gold tooth shining in his grin. “welcome to velocity. i think you’ll fit right in.”

“why the hell are you dodging all my calls?” megan asks you after you finally pick up after her 6th call of the night. she sounds exasperated, and sure, you could have used her help lugging the few suitcases of your belongings up the stairs, but the surprise you’re about to give her is worth the evasion.

“look outside,” you tell her simply, pulling back the blinds on your window.

“what exactly am i looking for?” she asks, and you can see her nose wrinkle confusedly over the facetime call. this is one of the things you love about megan, her simplicity, her occasional cluelessness— hell, she was so focused on working on that damn car from today, she didn’t notice you slipping in and out of the door as she worked, moving all your stuff into the building literally right over her head as she tinkered away.

“hi neighbor,” you grin out your window.

“no way.” megan flashes a bright smile at you from her window as she spins around, her eyes meeting yours. your places are just a block away from each other, and you’re able to see her through the window, clear as day.

“this is so cool,” you say, admiring the place. sure, it’s just as dingy as viper had warned you, but for a studio, it beat a dorm room, and it way beat living with your parents for another summer. “we should go thrift furniture together. my place is empty as hell.”

“did you get a mattress up the stairs by yourself?” she asks.

“uh, no. there was one in there,” you answer awkwardly.

“y/n, fuck no, sleep on the couch or something,” megan’s eyes nearly bug out of her head on screen, making you laugh. “who knows what’s been done on that mattress.”

“okay, like the couch is gonna be any cleaner,” you roll your eyes, but you make a mental note to prioritize a new bed. “hey, what’s viper’s real name?

megan shrugs. “i dunno. never asked. just assumed his mom loved him enough to name him something badass like that.”

“you’re so dumb,” you laugh.

“wanna come over?” she offers, and you hear the flick of a lighter. it’s the megan you know, constantly smoking, to the point that the sound brings you comfort. “you can spend the night, we can get you a blow up mattress or something tomorrow.”

“and watch you play grand theft auto while you hotbox me out?” you laugh, gathering a few of your things into a backpack. “fine, i guess. see you in a sec, neighbor.”

your first week on the job goes mostly without a hitch.

part of that is mostly thanks to megan, who’s made it her personal mission to make sure you don’t quit within a week, and that starts with making sure all her coworkers leave you the fuck alone. 

“how long til you let the first one of us hit?” one of the younger guys asked, tapping his fingers against your desk, knocking the cup of pens off the table with the vibrations. 

“aw bro, if she already let viper hit to get this job, i don’t wanna get in on his sloppy seconds.” the other one eggs on, and you grit your teeth trying to ignore them both as you clean up the spilled pens. you’re hoping the silent treatment will be enough of a hint to leave you alone, but thankfully, you don’t have to wait around and find out. 

megan is slinking through in front of your desk, shoulder checking the first guy out of her way and reaching to grab the second one by his collar. her grease-smeared fingers grip tightly onto his shirt as she yanks him towards her, and you can see the surprise in everyone’s faces at how fast she’s turned this into something bigger.

“talk to her like that again and i’ll crush you under the fucking car jack,” megan threatens, her voice cold and even, her head lazily rolling back and forth to stare between the two of them. 

“damn bro, relax,” the guy holds his hands up, trying to prove he’s no threat. “didn’t know you were sober enough to be listening, skiendiel.”

“wish i could be high enough to tune your annoying ass out,” she grits irritatedly. she drops her grip on his shirt, and by that point, half the shop is busy staring at you, but she clearly isn’t bothered. “if anyone else pisses off y/n again, we’re going to have a fucking problem.” 

“i can fend for myself,” you tell her, mildly frustrated. if she’d just let you ignore them—

“i know,” she says simply, scooping your pens all back into the cup and handing them back to you. “but i made a promise.”

“we were like, 12, meg,” you remind her.

she shrugs, reaching behind you to grab another key off the keyring, starting on her next car. “promise is a promise.”

you shake your head, but leave it at that. you’ll unpack that night another time, your promise with megan to always look out for each other, but for now, you’ll be secretly grateful— the other guys in the shop leave you alone from that day on.

you haven’t figured out the mattress situation, but it isn’t the worst thing in the world. between naps on your couch and crashing at megan’s, you’ve gotten into a cozy enough routine that makes you think your time back home might not be all that bad. sure, viper was unfortunately right about the noise, but you’ve learned to predict the patterns of when the cars will pull up and disrupt your night.

megan’s usually too high to care, or she’ll be too busy playing video games to be bothered, but she’s never really batted an eye at the revving, claiming the noise calms her. you’ll peek out the window just to keep an eye on things, and you’re starting to pick up on a pattern. in the parking lot of the autobody shop, usually around 9pm, you’ll see a bunch of cars pull in and circle around each other.

among them, a bright red mustang.

“hi, thanks for visiting velocity automotives.” your line is too easy at this point, after nearly two weeks of the job being steady and predictable. “what services are you looking for?”

usually, it’s tune ups and oil changes, maybe a tire rotation or a trouble shoot, but about a week after you started, you start to hear the phrase: “i’m here to see megan.”

and that’s it. viper told you that for any appointment where they ask for megan, take down their info, and open the “special schedule.” it’s weird that he’s having you start this, and he changes megan’s schedule while he’s at it, but she doesn’t seem to bothered. it almost starts to feel like it’s code for something, i’m here to see megan, but the girl herself isn’t raising any flags for you.

“what exactly is it that you do?” you ask, hanging back one day to join her for one of those evening sessions. “and how come you only take appointments after 6pm? isn’t it kinda random that you’re the only person that has to work a night shift?”

“i like motorcycles better, honestly,” she tells you, her tongue poking out from her lips in focus as she leans over the hood of her current project, tinkering with the engine.  “i’m just good at mods. viper thinks it makes more sense for me to work nights and do only mods instead of waste time doing oil changes. leave the easy stuff to the idiots.”

“‘cause you’re just that good or what?” you tease.

“i’m just that good,” she grins back. “and he’s paying me good shit too. not a bad deal, honestly.”

“all to make people’s cars look cooler?” you question, watching as she gets into the driver’s seat and cranks the key. the engine rumbles, and then revs like a creature coming to life. megan’s eyes light up like a kid at christmas at the sound.

“make them look cooler, sound louder, drive faster. you’d get it if you cared about cars, y/n, but i guess you’ve always been a loser,” she teases, giving the engine another rev. 

“i’ll leave the car shit to you,” you laugh.

you hear the ring of the door opening, and the response comes out like you’re on autopilot. you’re too busy trying to decipher viper’s weird ass text about ordering more parts (since when was that part of your job?) to bother looking up.

“hi, thanks for visiting velocity automotives,” you say quickly. 

“you.”

the voice is familiar, strangely so. you finally look up, and piercing into you is none other than that intense, sharp hazel stare. she’s grinning, wider and wider the longer the two of you lock eyes. her tongue peeks out quickly to swipe along her bottom teeth, the gesture cocky and eager all at once. 

“and here i was heartbroken thinking i’d never see your face again,” she smirks, leaning over the countertop to tilt her head down and meet your gaze. her keychain dangles from the tip of her finger, inches away from your face. you feel paralyzed, and that stare, confident and unbreaking, makes it even harder to form a coherent thought. 

“service?” you finally breathe.

you remember her clear as day, even with it being over a year now since your detention together. avanzini, with the red mustang and that dangerous crooked smile. 

“i’m here for megan,” she says easily, pointing behind you at the mechanics hard at work within the shop. 

“she’ll only take mods after 6 pm,” you inform her. 

avanzini raises her eyebrow, a perfect arched brow. she gives you a quick once-over, and you feel exposed under her gaze. “will you be there?”

“no,” you say quickly. 

“damn shame,” she clicks her teeth, tapping her fingers on the counter. “set me up for her next opening. please.”

“she can fit you in tomorrow,” you offer, checking the off-hours schedule.

“what’s your name?” she pivots quickly, as if she didn’t even hear your question. her eyes are so, so intense scanning over you, like some sort of predator sizing you up. “you never told me, that day, you know.”

“y/n,” you yield quickly, almost hoping the conversation can end now. “do you want that appointment or not?”

“why won’t you be there?” she presses on, leaning in further again. it reminds you of your first meeting, the way she invades your bubble as if she has no concept of personal space.

“uh, i don’t spend all my time at work,” you state, as if it’s obvious.

“so then what are you doing tonight?” she asks quickly, arching a brow.

“um-” you’re not fast enough to come up with a response before she’s jumping in, cutting you off again, tapping her fingertips inches away from yours to get your attention. 

“come to a car show. by the amusement park next to the pier,” she tells you quickly, one more glance up and down. “dress up. they’ll have drinks and music, and a shit ton of cool cars.”

you don’t know what possesses you to even consider it, but your brain goes foggy with how close she is to you, the pure magnetic pull she exudes. the words leave your mouth before you can even think to catch up with your mouth.

“will you be there?” 

she grins, tongue poking out from behind those perfect white teeth. “of course i’ll be there.”

“i’ll think about it,” you say simply.

“don’t break my heart, okay?” she puts a hand to her chest, pouting exaggeratedly at you. “i’m counting on you. don’t think i forgot about what i owe you. i’m good on my word, alright?”

realizing you only know her by her last name, your next words slip out just as quickly as your first one had.

“what’s your name?” 

“you know my name,” she responds too easily, and your chest pounds in response. 

there’s a beat of silence between the two of you, as she keeps eyeing you, and you wonder what could possibly left of you that she’s looking for. she grins one last time, pushing off the countertop to finally get out of your bubble. 

“daniela. you can put me down for tomorrow, 7pm,” she adds. she swings the keychain one last time on the first knuckle of her index finger, before catching it in her hand and slinking out the door, like a shadow slipping back into the night. “but i’ll see you, tonight, y/n.”

you feel your heart race. if that smile is enough to go off of, trouble might just have found you.

[iisayfa]

mb de megan de katseye

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‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 咕噜声‎ ' ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ #$prite ‎‎ ‎ 🤘🏻 ‎ ⠂

[iisayfa]

★ like or reblog ☆

[iisayfa]

WHAT THE FAKKAKAKAKAKAK I ACTUALLY HATE BEING IN THE ACST TIMEZONE BECAUSE WHILE I WAS STUDYING BULLSHIT ENGLISH IN THE LECTURE HALL KATSEYE HAVING A FULL ON FUCKING MUKBANGGG 💔💔💔😔💥🔫🔫

WHAT THE ACTUAL FAWKKK I KNOW LARAS FINE LIKE SHES BEENNNN FINE BUT SHE IS QUITE LITERALLY GLOWING HERE ESPECIALLY WHAT THE FAKWKWKWKWKWKKWHRJSJFBSK

[iisayfa]

┈─★ 𝘪 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 ( 𝘀𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 — 𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙤. )

  ⊹ ࣪ ˖ after 3 years of dating rising star and hockey team captain megan skiendiel, your senior year of college signals the end of an era. as she approaches her final season, the two of you navigate how much you're willing to push and pull to pursue her dreams— and figure out where yours fit in all of this, too.

         ˎˊ˗  ❄️  ⊹ ࣪ ˖  🔓୭˚.  ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

   ➴ pairing: hockey captain! megan skiendiel x english major! f!reader

         ➴ genre + wc: 18k, fluff, angst, established relationship, poor stress management tbh, also reader keeps a lowkey shitty secret for a lot longer than needed, happy ending.

   ➴ you might want to tune in...: ditto - newjeans

      ┈─★ a/n: chat are we ready to say goodbye to dittoverse.... i'm ngl i'll miss my hockey wigline! so grateful that i got to start my writing journey w ditto pt i and now i get to write this to truly circle all the way around. lmk what you think <3

cw:// brief mentions of recreational drug use, mild violence but once again it's a hockey fic!

“ladies and gentlemen, megan thee skiendiel!”

you announce the introduction into your pen, quickly shoving the makeshift mic over the table into megan’s face. 

“i’d get copyrighted.” she wrinkles her nose. “and my last name is so not tough enough.”

you shake your head, bringing the pretend microphone back to your face. “megan thee captain, then.”

“cheesy,” she grins at you. you match her smile right back. “i need something better for my interview.”

“megan thee girlfriend,” you tease, as she taps her chin as if to genuinely contemplate it.

“that’s a good one.” she grabs her notebook and pretends to jot them down. “megan thee property of y/n.”

“okay, relax,” you laugh. “what’s your day look like?”

the ginger lets out a sigh, and your heart aches as you realize you’ve popped the bubble. the topic you’ve both been avoiding as you try to make the most of your quality time: your girlfriend’s insane schedule. 

“we leave to the airport after class,” she lists off, holding up a finger, “then the hotel, away game tomorrow evening, fly back saturday morning.”

“we prep your presentation, prep your speech,” you add, reminding her what you were working on in the first place.

“oh, and then monday i have to go with the department to do a ribbon cutting at an elementary school,” megan adds. “they started a girl’s hockey team in partnership with the university.”

“you’re terrible with kids,” you laugh.

“i fucking know i’m terrible with kids,“ she groans, burying her face in your shoulder. “how do i not knock them over or accidentally swear in front of them or whatever?”

“things are only going to get busier during midterms.” you frown at the mere thought of how overloaded her schedule is. “so you breathe when?”

“right now,” megan wrinkles her nose, before her mind escapes elsewhere. “we should get a dog.”

“oh, i’m sure my roommate-who-isn’t-you would love that,” you snort. megan still lives in that same house with dani, who now coaches, and lara, who’s finishing up her internship. 

“not now, just later.” she grins and wraps her arm around your waist, scooting your chair in up next to hers far too easily. she brings her nose to your hear, mumbling into your hair. “hey, be my date to alumni night?”

“i’d crash out if you picked anyone else.” you laugh, pressing a kiss into her cheek. “like on the floor, snot all over my face, ugly crying.”

“no, you look so so sad when you cry. thank god you’re the only person i want as my date,” she grins. 

a voice quickly bursts your bubble. again.

“shhhh.” you’ve almost completely forgotten about the couple trying to read across the table from you as you get caught up in your whispers. “library is for studying. less yapping.”

“we’re inside a study room,” you squint at her.

“sorry minji,” megan adds fearfully, her brows furrowing.

“please don’t feel the need to apologize to her,” you wave her off. you’re grateful that your friendship with minji hasn’t just survived the years, but thrived, and now results in you living in a off-campus 2 bedroom apartment with her and her girlfriend. of course, you’d ideally be living with megan, but given her travel schedule, it worked out better for you guys to live apart.

“i’m smarter than both of you,” minji says flatly.

the newest addition to your friend group, megan’s old roommate, danielle marsh, pokes her head out from behind the book she’s diving into, pushing minji gently on the shoulder as a reprimand.

“be nice.”

“thank you, marsh,” megan nods appreciatively, as you stick your tongue out at minji at her girlfriend’s reproach. 

“we should start walking to class anyways,” you wave her off, seeing the time in the corner of your laptop. your girlfriend takes the cue without question and bids your friends farewell with a nod of her head. 

megan, chivalrous, sweet megan, has never let you open a door for yourself, and got it into her head that you shouldn’t carry any of your own things either. you tried to tell her off when she first started doing it, but seeing how sad those puppy dog eyes got when you insisted she stop carrying your bookbag made you give in the next day, and the rest has been history. 

she immediately reaches for your backpack and extends a hand out to you. you take it and relish in how warm her skin is against yours. she makes a face, a wince, as she grabs her own bag and hauls the two of them over her shoulder while you make your way out of the library together.

“is your back okay?” you ask, worried about her reaction.

“it would be if you stopped carrying every single one your textbooks in this damn bag.” she huffs, but the sparkle in her eye tells you she’s still just teasing you. she squeezes your hand reassuringly. “i get that you paid for them but jesus christ baby, get them online next time.”

“we have one last semester, think you can handle my books for a few months longer?” you tease back.

“don’t remind me,” she tells you, but you see something in her face change at the mention of your college experience coming to an end. 

before you can ask anything about it, a few random people come up to the two of you, one girl stopping in your tracks.

“hi, could we get a picture?” she asks, sticking her phone out.  “my dad loves you. says you’ve revamped women’s college hockey.”

you give megan a look but graciously step to the side, letting the strangers squeeze in next to her. megan shoots you an apologetic glance but immediately perks up into a smile for the girl’s photo.

“i think daniela avanzini changed the game, i just followed up on what she started,” she smiles, holding a thumbs up for the photo. they thank her and scurry off, leaving you to reclaim your girlfriend by the hand as you resume your walk to class.

“my mini-celebrity,” you pretend to fan yourself. “want me to sign an nda?”

“oh god, i hate when you say a bunch of letters,” she wrinkles her nose, shaking her head. “my fucking brain is so cooked.”

“chat, do i define nda for her or do i let her guess?”

“nonchalant drippy alpha.” megan grins.

“actually it’s never die, asshole.”

“i think it’s nine dry assholes,” she adds on.

“why did you fixate on the asshole part? and why are there nine of them?” you squint at her, poking her nose with your fingertip. “weirdo.”

“you’re weirder.” she grabs your finger and plants a kiss on it, then another, and another. “and you love me.”

your heart stirs at the sight of her cute brown eyes peeking out at you expectantly from under that stupid beanie. you’ll be stuck with a forever crush on this giant dork.

“maybe,” you shrug.

megan beams, then drops her voice into her stereotypical gamer voice, pretending to speak into an imaginary microphone like how you two had in the library.

“oh fuck yeah. we got a maybe from fineshyt, chat, please clip.”

you roll your eyes, but hold on just a bit tighter to her hand. megan is quick to squeeze right back.

-

your schedule is busy, between finishing your senior capstone project and the full course load you’re taking, on top of the online editing job you work in between it all. you’ve found an effective way to balance your workload, but for every day you want to grumble and complain about your schedule, you look at the google calendar that you share with your girlfriend, and send a silent prayer of gratitude that your days look nothing like hers.

your semester gets off to a slightly bumpy start, as megan tries to fit the beginning of the new season and her captain duties in with the classes she’s taking, but you two have managed to make it work.

and by make it work, you mean do whatever you can to try and spend whatever shred of time she can spare together.

like tonight, for example, when you’re done with classes and calling megan as soon as you’re done with your editing shift before you start homework.

she picks up on the second ring, and you can hear the bustle of people’s voices behind her in the background. she’d likely have just gotten out of practice given it’s this late in the afternoon.

“hi. just checking if i’m gonna see you tonight?” you greet her.

“hi, sorry.” she lets out a sigh, and you can practically picture the way she’s wrinkling her nose from all the stress. “i have tapes to review with the new players, then i have a coach’s meeting with the department, then we’re shooting an ad with gatorade.”

“when do you eat?” you ask, feeling your brows knit together. 

“sometime in between all of that,” she breathes, a quiet laugh leaving her lips. you admire her, the way she doesn’t complain about any of it, but you’re always worried she’s pushing her limits.

“did you finish your homework?” you ask. granted, you’re only a few weeks into the semester, but in your years of dating, you had taken over the role of making sure megan stayed on top of her academics, and you weren’t about to let up now.

“i worked on some things in class,” she reassures you. “i’ll finish when i get home.”

“can i postmate you something?” you offer, but she’s quick to cut you off.

“no don’t worry about it, please,” she says hurriedly, but before you can insist, the phone clatters around on her end and you’re suddenly hearing a familiar voice that isn’t quite megan’s.

“i love you mami, you mean everything to me, my heart bleeds for you,” dani’s voice is loud and teasing over the sound of chatter in the background. you hear a chorus of girls laughing, and it brings a smile to your face to picture megan whining and turning red at daniela’s playful taunts.

“oh my god, fuckin’ dani,” megan groans, regaining control over the phone. “sorry about her. she’s even worse now that she’s a coach.”

“well is she right?” you grin.

“you’re the only thing that keeps me sane some days.” you can hear megan’s voice lighten up, warm and joyful. “i love you so much.”

“i can wait for you at your place,” you offer. megan still lives in the same house with lara and dani which makes the drive from your apartment with minji much easier. 

“i’d love that.” you can hear her smile, picture her little whisker dimples, and it sends a wave of warmth over you. “i gotta go. see you soon.”

you drive over to megan’s place and you barely get a chance to knock before the door swings open, revealing the charming former goalie.

“hiiiii y/n,” lara drawls, her bright smile never fading as she greets you, ushering you in. “how’s senior year treating you?”

“oh you know,” you grimace, kicking off your shoes. 

“you’ll make it through just fine,” she reassures you, “plus you have that—”

you shake your head quickly, to cut her off. “please don’t remind me.”

lara’s perceptive, quick to pick up on your anxieties and dissect them. maybe it’s the fact that you’ve dated her best friend for the past three years, but lara knows you far better than you’d ever have anticipated.

“you haven’t told her yet?” she asks in disbelief, her eyes widening.

“i know i know.” you wince. “the right time hasn’t come up.”

“i trust you, but sooner rather than later, right?” she gives you an empathetic tilt of the head.

“of course,” you nod. “i appreciate you.”

“always,” she smiles, before adding a quick heads up. “make yourself at home. she’s been coming home super late recently, you might be up for a while.”

between homework, studying, and reading, the hours alone in megan’s room melt away. you don’t even realize that you’ve fallen asleep when you hear the door creak open, jolting you awake. you check your phone and see it read just past 1:30am. 

“home invasion?” you smile, worried about how late she’s coming home, but grateful to see her nonetheless.

“hands up, sigma,” megan jokes weakly, setting her bag down in the corner before coming to plant a kiss on your hair. 

“i could smell you from a mile away,” you tease back, taking in the state of her. she looks utterly spent, hair a mess, skin still looking sticky.

“the gatorade commercial people kept trying to talk to me even in the locker room. i didn’t have enough privacy to shower,” she groans.

“my poor girl,” you reach out to stroke her cheek. “you sound exhausted.”

“missed you,” she grumbles, pressing a kiss into your palm.

“glad you’re home,” you tell her. “please come rest.”

megan nods, peeling her hoodie off over her shoulders.

“after my shower i’m passing out,” she calls out to you as she disappears into the bathroom.

“i’ll make sure you wake up on time. c’mon,” you beckon her, taking a look at your phone. if she sleeps in the next 20 minutes, she’ll maybe manage to get 6 hours before she has to be up again to head to campus. you tuck yourself in as you hear the water run, and take to tik tok to keep yourself awake to be ready to hear about her day.

you’re not fully aware of how much time has passed from your scrolling until your eyes flicker up to the time in the corner. nearly 2:15am. 

you hear the water still running. megan deserves the luxury of a hot shower, but almost an hour has never been part of her habits. you jump up and enter the bathroom slowly, as to not disturb her.

“megan?” you call out, only to be met with silence.

you pull back the curtain to see your girlfriend, standing with her forehead against the tile, head slumped forward with her eyes shut. she looks so, so peaceful, but you know you have to wake her. 

“hey,” you shake her gently. she jolts awake with a startle, and she looks so cute with her wet hair slicked back, but you’re extremely worried about what you just saw. “you okay?”

“sorry, sorry. it was so nice and warm,” she yawns, turning the water off.

“were you asleep?” you ask in disbelief, still holding onto the curtain.

she blinks a few times as you hand her a towel. “i think i closed my eyes when i was rinsing my hair and they just never opened.”

“that’s insane,” you laugh. “c’mon, let me braid your hair and we can finally go to bed.”

-

“she fell asleep in the shower last night.” you tell dani on the call, shaking your head in disbelief as you recount the events. “just straight up, literally, i shit you not, standing up.”

“like a horse?” dani questions.

“she’s so exhausted, but she never complains,” you sigh.

your friendships with daniela and lara had deepened in your time dating megan, and dani was someone you found would always be up for a quick call if she was free. though you tended to seek advice from lara about the more emotional things, dani had always given some tidbit of wisdom about the captain duties megan was taking on and how to best support her. this time was no different, though the pause she takes tells you she’s thinking about her words as to not worry you. 

“megan’s always been a workhorse,” she reminds you. “if there’s a gap, she’ll fill it. ‘i can do more,’ she always fuckin’ says. you know her. she’ll find the balance, i know she will.”

you look down at the email in your inbox. you want to tell her, you do, but the last thing you want is to add stress to her day.

“you’re right,” you sigh, and focus on the future.

-

halfway through the semester, and your schedules have only gotten more hectic. you’re grateful to have met megan early enough in her career that she had plenty of time for you guys to get to know each other. at this point, you’re scraping by on whatever in-betweens you’re both able to make work, but you won’t complain. you know she’s doing her best to fit it all in and be the best.

speaking of which, a facetime audio from your favorite contact photo interrupts your train of thought. it’s a picture of megan on her birthday, blowing out a candle, smiling so big it looks like her face might burst. your heart skips a beat to think the girl in the photo is the one you get to claim so proudly.

“hi you,” you greet.

“hi,” she chirps back. “are you still working on your blackstone?”

“that’s the grill,” you correct her quickly, laughing. “capstone is my project.”

“please forgive me, shorty,” she says in a stupid voice. you can practically picture her face.

“forgiven.” you smile, before checking the time. “what’s up? aren’t you supposed to be at practice?”

“they cut it short today cause coach and dani couldn’t stop arguing over about the starting lineup,” she explains, and you both laugh. “you and i haven’t had a real date in so long. can you squeeze me in?”

“i can move some things in my schedule.” your heart flips at the thought of being able to spend actual quality time with her. “i miss you.”

“miss you more. thanks for being flexible. see you soon?” she asks eagerly.

“where am i meeting you?”

“meet me in 20! i’ll text you,” she says, a little too quickly, and you instantly sense something’s up. but before you can question her, she chirps a quick “i love you” and hangs up.

you look down at your phone as you head towards your car and realize she’s sent you the location. you zoom out on the map until you realize where she’s got planned.

the lake….. megan meiyok be SO fr baby if u love me u wld be happy to spend any time w me it’s so cold outside i will bring you hot choco ples pls please pls pleas pls plspslpslpls OKAYYYY fine

the argument is over sooner than it started, and you’re heading over to the frozen lake where megan loves to practice when she doesn’t feel like heading to the arena.

“hi, beautiful,” she greets you, beaming smile. if you were angry earlier, her smile is enough to melt away any of your mild frustrations.

“hi you,” you greet back, pressing a kiss into her cheek

“we haven’t had a date on ice in a while,” she notes, handing you your skates that she keeps with hers.

“you’re determined to teach me how to skate,” you roll your eyes.

“you’re going to know how, our kids are going to know how, our crusty ass dog is going to know how.” she reaches out to you and steps onto the ice with the confidence of someone who’s never fallen. “we are for sure a skating family.”

you laugh and take her arm. you love the idea of the future she has pictured. 

“do you remember the first time you tried to take me on the ice?” you ask, as she pulls the two of you along on the bumpy frozen-over lake.

“you were so bad at it,” she laughs.

“everyone looks bad at it compared to you,” you frown.

“i think i expected you to be more graceful,” she grins.

“you’ve been skating since you could walk.” you roll your eyes and try to push her, but the movement just makes you wobbly on the ice. “cut me some slack.”

“while you studied your books, i studied the motherfucking blade,” she tells you.

“ok, relax naruto,” you laugh, trying to get your bearings as she lets go of your arm and skates ahead of you, turning backwards to face you effortlessly. show off.

“dare me to hit the most vile jutsu known to man?” she grins.

“literally what does that even mean?” you shake your head.

“it means i hit a nasty pose and copy myself a million times,” she beams, and you can’t stop laughing at the various poses she starts to contort herself into. 

“the bitches of the wnhl are gonna loooove you,” you sing song, watching her continue to hit what you can only assume are the most complex of nerdy naruto poses. 

“coach said he’s already getting teams ask about me,” she says excitedly, reaching back out for your hand to guide you along the ice.

“i bet they’ve been asking about you since your freshman year,” you reassure her.

megan’s smile softens as she looks at you, then looks at your intertwined hands. “we have grown a lot since then.”

“so much.”

“i feel really lucky.”

“how come?”

“everything just sort of worked out for me. about to graduate, captain by my junior year, met my college sweetheart. it’s like, so convenient.”

“you have worked extremely hard for everything you have,” you reassure her, reaching up to play with the hairs at the base of her neck. “i can’t think of anyone who works harder. you deserve everything good in your life.”

“some days i feel like i never deserved you,” she admits. 

“what? don’t be silly.” you squint at her. “you’re the superstar. i still get shy knowing i’m the one you call at the end of the night.”

“all these years and you still feel shy?” she looks at you with those wide, beautiful puppy dog eyes.

“you’re very, very good looking,” you admit, though you’ve told her a million times before how attractive you’ve found her. “and very funny, and unfortunately, extremely awkward, which meant i was doomed from the start.”

she makes a fist with her free hand and beams. “i bagged the baddie using my undeniable weird girl swag.”

“weirdest of weird girls,” you laugh. “i wouldn’t want anyone else.”

the weight of the email starts to strain inside your chest. lara’s words ring through your ears. this needs to be the time you say something.

“meg–” you start.

the buzz of her phone vibrates loudly against her pocket, cutting you off. she pulls her phone out and winces, letting go of your hand.

“it’s coach. i have to take this, nike wants to do an interview tomorrow and he’s losing his shit about it. i’m so sorry,” she offers you the most apologetic kiss she can muster.

“go for it.” you nod, but you feel the sinking in your chest. “i know what i signed up for.”

megan has to leave as soon as the call is over, and by the look on her face, she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. you can’t possibly bear to add something else to her plate. 

you head home, grateful for the tender moment you were able to share. maybe it was a blessing in disguise that you didn’t get to spoil it with your announcement.

you’re home and settling into your night when you get a text from minji in the other room. 

this you?

a post from a college sports gossip blog. it’s a picture of you and megan, on the ice, holding hands. 

you grimace. sure, the lake is in a public park, but who’s weird enough to be taking pictures of you at your most private times?

your fingers keep scrolling. 

you know dani had gone through this when her relationship with the coach’s daughter had gone public. megan had told you all about how they tried to keep it just between the team at first, but even with dani stepping down as captain, she was still a hot topic and being locked down by her coach’s own daughter made them campus celebrities for months. 

you’ve tried not to let the same thing bother you, but facts are facts: megan is one of the best college hockey players in the country, and dani made women’s hockey something to talk about. megan, by default, becomes something of a mini-celebrity on campus, and you are unfortunately stuck as her hockey wife. 

you look at the bright side. you knew her as a sweet, bright eyed freshman without a clue in the world, and despite all the recognition that’s come to her, she’s still the same old megan you fell in love with. you pick megan, and that means picking all that comes with her.

-

with midterms quickly coming and going, you and megan survive the grueling test season and make it out on the other side relatively unscathed. you know at this point in the semester, her team is starting to heat up, and with such a dominant performance so far in the season, her team is easily top in their conference, all but guaranteeing their spot in the playoffs. 

you’d think that she’d take it easy to maintain her pace, but lately, megan has been harder to get a hold of, somehow even less available than you had thought was possible. you cheer her on at every home game, and she was thrilled when you crashed with sophia to cheer her on at an away game, but lately, even lara mentions how much megan has been blowing her off to practice or tend to her captain duties.

you take it upon yourself to wait for her outside of the conference room, knowing she’s busy reviewing a recent interview she did with ESPN with the athletics department. when she finally comes out of the room, you feel yourself light up at the sight of your girlfriend.

what hurts your heart is for the first time in years, she doesn’t light up at the sight of you. her eyes are tired, and while she acknowledges you with a hug, the unintentional cold shoulder admittedly stings.

“hi,” she greets weakly, reaching out as you initiate a hug. 

you try to shake off your nerves at the interaction and squeeze her as tightly as you can. she takes heavy steps to lead the two of you out of the building. 

“i saw your interview. tried calling you in between but i know it was a busy day for you,” you chirp. “how’d you think it went?”

“not good,” megan shakes her head immediately. “i lost my shit so fast.”

“why are you being so hard on yourself? you did amazing,” you frown.

“thank you.” a beat, and she nuzzles her head into your shoulder. a flash of your familiar megan comes back, and it soothes your heart. you run your fingers through her hair to comfort her, and it seems to help as she lets out a sigh. “yeah, sorry. i’m stressing about my grades.”

“you have so much on your plate,” you tell her worriedly.

she groans. “and i’m barely holding on to this passing grade in my world literature class.”

“i can help with that,” you nod. “easily.”

the two of you find yourselves on a bench outside the building, sitting side by side. a brief moment of peace with your ever-busy girlfriend.

“i don’t want you always doing my english homework for me,” she tells you, biting her lip.

“i’d never, you know that meg. but i can help you make sense of it all.”

“glad one of us likes english,” she wrinkles her nose, reaching over to press a kiss into your temple. “i like that so much about you.”

english. your mind wanders to the email. it’s been months now since you told yourself you’d say something to her. you steady yourself with an inhale and reach for her hand.

“speaking of english, i wanted to find a good time to tell you,” you start quietly.

“hm?” she arches a brow, those puppy eyes looking at you nervously.

“i got an offer for a master’s program in the UK.” you confess. “lodging would be paid for, i’d be a research assistant which would cover the costs of my program. it’s literally perfect megan, like a dream come true.”

megan’s eyes are wide. you’re waiting for the hug, the congratulatory cheer, but instead, she just stares back at you.

“oh.” she says simply. “you actually applied?”

“yes.” you furrow your brows. “i didn’t just mention it to mention it.”

“i didn’t think you were serious about it,” she admits, and it stings to hear her tone. dismissive. something you would have never expected given all the wins you two make such a big deal of celebrating.

“why do you say that?” you question, trying to regulate yourself.

“it’s so far,” she says quietly, opening her mouth to add more, but nothing comes out. she looks away, pulling her hand from yours.

“hey,” you push, scooting closer to her on the bench. “you okay?”

“i’m anxious,” she admits. 

“i know,” you sigh. “just between practice, and your meetings, and your interviews, there’s never enough time to talk about the heavier stuff. i didn’t want to let more time pass. we haven’t exactly had a ton of time to talk about next steps.”

“y/n, you know it’s either hockey, or nothing for me after college ends. i need to go pro.” her eyes are determined, but there’s something more to them, something that worries you. “if i lose this season, my future is out the window. i can’t lose you too.”

“dani was the best player in the country and she didn’t end up going pro. everything can change so fast. you need to be prepared with a backup plan, meg,” you remind her. it’s not that you don’t foresee her succeeding, but you remember how torn up she was when dani got injured, and how fast it all changed. “you’re so much more than this sport.”

“i am nothing without hockey,” she says quickly, her face tensing. you don’t like what’s coming over her, but more so, you don’t know what’s coming over her. she’s never gotten like this in all your years together. determined, sure, but never this insistent, never this aggressive.

“yes you are,” your brows furrow. 

“it’s everything to me.”

“what about your friends? your hobbies?” you press, before your voice softens. “what about me?”

“i wouldn’t have any friends without hockey. i don’t have hobbies,” she says quickly, shaking her head. “and i wouldn’t have met you without hockey.”

“but you got all those things along the way. hockey didn’t do that for you, they just happened. you made your friendships happen, i like you for you and not what you do.”

“no i get that, i just feel like i really need to focus. i’m really sorry.” she lets out a deep breath, and reaches again for your hand, and you feel slightly reassured by the gesture as her body relaxes. “i’ll make it up to you.”

“i know you will. just take it easy on yourself, please?” you plead, reaching over to brush some hair out of her face.

you see her wipe at the corners of her eyes. you reach for her and lay her head down on your shoulder, playing gently with her hair. 

-

“i’m worried about megan,” you say quietly, later that night on another phone call with daniela as megan is off to do another tape review with the team. 

“she’s been dreaming of this since she was a kid,” dani sighs. “the only thing she loves as much as she loves this sport is you.”

“i’m scared she’s going to burn out,” you confess.

“if there’s a time to push, it’s now,” dani reminds you.

“do you think i’m maybe doing too much?” you ask. you stare at a framed photo of you and the ginger that you keep hanging above your desk in your room, a picture of the two of you on a picnic. “like i’m asking too much of her?”

“that’s not a question for me,” dani tells you. “i’m in no position to be giving relationship advice. barely figured out how to make one work on my own.”

you laugh softly. “you know, it was easier when you were in charge.”

“i made that shit look soooo easy.” you can hear her smile over the phone. “nobody gets how hard it was. megan’s good at it but she’s not ever going to half-ass something.”

you stare at the photo. megan’s adorable dimples, her shining eyes, her wide smile: things you haven’t seen her do in what feels like weeks. 

“i don’t think she has enough of herself left to give,” you say quietly.

-

the alumni night rolls around, and it’s a blast for you to see all the girls who graduated. they open up the arena for a few hours of free ice skating and talking to the team. it’s a welcome few hours to enjoy with her, and as you promised, you show up extra early to be her date.

megan, forever the adorable face of the team, gives a quick welcome speech on the ice and thanks everyone for being there. she poses briefly with a few of the donors for some pictures and then finds you to guide you onto the ice. 

you’re wobbly, as expected, but megan keeps her arm held out to you, anchoring you as she pushes off strong enough for the both of you to lap lazy circles around and around without much effort on your end.

“i’ll get good at this eventually,” you reassure her, trying your best not to wobble and fall. 

“that’s what i’m here for,” she smiles back at you. “also looks sick to have such a pretty girl on my arm.”

“you’re sweet,” you grin. after your talk, things had been tense, but you had tried to ease up and just support her. dani’s words would ring through your head, about how bad you want this, and you remembered how much you love megan’s determination. 

“my babies, always looking more and more grown up,” lara sing songs from behind you both as she catches up on the ice. you spot lara’s girlfriend, plus yunjin, and dani, plus dani’s girlfriend, all joining you. 

lara chats to yunjin about her therapy internship she’s doing at a local mental health center, and yunjin rambles excitedly about how boston is going for her and the super cool job she bagged straight after graduation. dani barely counts as an alumni considering she works at the university now, but she’s still wearing an alumni name tag, enjoying the attention of people asking her what it’s like to be on the other side of it all. 

“zuha just got here!” yunjin announces loudly, looking down at a text on her phone with a beaming grin. 

“kazuha signed to the vegas golden knights right after graduation,” megan says quickly. several of the seniors that year got drafted and you remember megan following all their stats meticulously.

“hoping to join her?” you ask curiously, trying to be a good sport about it all. 

“just want to know what it’s like, she calls but she’s too busy to talk very long.” you can sense the urgency in her voice. “do you mind if i chat with her?”

“don’t be gone too long. i might get brave and try to skate again without you, might lose a tooth,” you tell her, smiling.

she presses a kiss to your forehead and sets your arm carefully on the wall, allowing you to pull yourself along to the exit. 

you sit on one of the benches to unlace the blades from your feet, when eunchae comes to join you.

eunchae greets you with a broad smile and you return it, happy to see the once star-struck rookie who had blossomed into megan’s right-hand on the ice. megan had stayed close with dani and lara since they didn’t move away after graduating, but eunchae, being a year younger, had quickly become megan’s new closest teammate. 

“it’s like ghosts came back,” she says as she sits next to you. “i missed everyone, but things are so different in just a year.”

“so different,” you agree.

“i’ll keep an eye on her for you,” she tells you, as if she can read your worries. “i know she’s been off lately. the new girls don’t know what she was like before she was captain, but i do. i can tell she’s been struggling, this year more than ever.”

you give eunchae an appreciative smile. “you have no idea how much that means to me. dani keeps saying she’s fine, but i feel like this year is different for her.”

“it’s a lot of pressure. we have the playoffs and if we do well, the championships. megan’s been part of the championship team since she was a freshman. it would look terrible if we started losing once she became captain. i think she’s trying to look at it from all angles,” eunchae explains, and it starts to click little by little for you.

“she doesn’t think she has any wiggle room,” you sigh, and the two of you spot her out on the ice, beaming widely at something kazuha is saying to her. your sweet, dorky megan, who shows up in flashes every once in a while.

eunchae offers you a nod of encouragement. “she’s got this, but i’ll let you know if i get worried. i can’t imagine this is very easy on you either.”

megan spots you from across the ice rink, and waves to the two of you. she says something quickly to kazuha before skating over to you, motioning for you to come back and join them. you and eunchae oblige, hopping onto the ice together.

“doing okay?” you check in.

she nods, but turns away for a moment, and you can see her trying to stifle a yawn. “i’m peachy.”

“how long have you been up for?” you question, holding onto her arm as eunchae chats kazuha’s ear off.

“um, i got up at 4 to do conditioning, then solo practice, radio interview at 6,” she starts to rattle off. you sigh and slip a hand into her back pocket, melting into her embrace.

“you need to fix your sleep schedule,” you chastise her.

“totally,” she agrees. “we can leave whenever.”

you’re about to suggest cutting the night early when a few extra voices cut in.

“cap!” 

megan squints at you apologetically before turning to greet the source of the noise. “hi guys.”

megan and eunchae welcome a wave of the newer girls. you recognize them freshmen and sophomores you’ve met in passing. haerin, moka, and maya, who all approach excitedly. 

you smile. years ago, it was you and megan who were the babies of the group, your sweet ginger being at her most bright-eyed and eager.

“this place is packed,” moka, one of the newer defenseman, gapes.

“insane, right?” maya, the starting goalie, agrees.

“hey, are we still good for an early practice tomorrow?” haerin asks megan, her voice quiet. you recognize her as a left wing: a high pressure spot with huge shoes to fill considering that was daniela’s former position, and works directly with megan as center to score the goals. you can’t imagine the pressure of being daniela’s replacement.

“for sure,” megan nods, and you can’t help but glare at her. so much for catching up on sleep. but these girls clearly admire her, and you won’t stand in the way of her being a doting team leader.

before they can keep going, a random guy comes up alongside you all, waving wildly at megan as if he knows her.

“my betting bracket depends on you,” he tells her, and you realize it’s just a fanboy. megan has had plenty in her time. “i’m putting it all on you getting us a dub.”

“thanks,” she says weakly, and eunchae gives her a quick glance as if to check in if she should do anything. you guys are all caught in an awkward silence as he simply skates alongside you all.

the guy opens his mouth to say something, but then notices your hand interlocked with megan’s, and brings a finger up to point at you.

“don’t fucking distract her, okay?” he warns.

you know he means it teasingly, but you can already feel megan’s body lurching at the gesture.

your girlfriend grabs him angrily by the sleeve, a warning look in her eyes as her grip locks tightly on his elbow. you see the younger girls freeze, all of you coming to a standstill as megan grabs him.

“don’t talk to her like that,” she warns harshly, her voice low. you can see the guy’s eyes widen in surprise, but more to your concern, you see the girls’ faces change. moka and maya are staring at each other, and haerin looks like she’s seeing a ghost.

“hey, relax,” you shake her arm, trying to bring her back to reality. you can tell she’s not all there by the way her dark eyes are still locked in on him, her grip still tight on his elbow. “he didn’t mean it like that.”

she blinks once, twice, and breathes slowly. “i’m sorry.”

“you can let go of him now,” eunchae says quietly, as if to not embarrass her. megan complies, and eunchae mentions something to the guy that has him skating off with a smile on his face, hopefully saving their interaction.

“sorry you guys had to see that,” megan tells the girls, shaking her head. “that was really not cool.”

“it’s okay, cap,” maya reassures her, if a bit too quickly, as if she’s kissing up. you smile at how hard they’re trying to cheer her up, but you can tell megan’s worried about how this affects their view of her, by the way she’s chewing her bottom lip.

“hey, it’s fine,” you reassure her, and moka nods in agreement.

“totally cool to protect your people,” she nods.

“i promise i’m not usually that quick to flip,” megan offers quietly, and you feel your heart ache at her embarrassment. usually, her protectiveness of you comes from a good place, but with all the stress, you can see her fuse is much shorter than normal.

“no, they know you’re a good person,” eunchae nods reassuringly.

“you’re thoughtful, and kind, and a good leader,” you reassure her, and the girls nod in agreement. “you work hard, harder than anyone i know, and you’re always willing to learn. you have zero ego.”

“alright, alright, i think i’ve blushed enough to reset my aura back into the negatives,” megan waves you off, wrinkling her nose, and the girls all beam back at you excitedly.

“i dunno cap, i think being a lovergirl actually proves you have rizz,” maya says, and haerin simply nods in eager agreement.

“yeah, coach dani loves telling stories about how you used to be this bitchless loser with zero social skills—” moka rambles, and you burst out laughing loud enough that it cuts her off.

“damn, your loser legacy lives on forever,” you grin, pinching her cheek.

“remind me to break her other knee once the season’s over so she’s got two bad legs,” megan groans, and eunchae laughs her off.

megan holds tightly onto your hand as you all continue to skate. eunchae chats excitedly with you and megan about some random stats, haerin is doing her best to listen and keep up, moka and maya are simply goofing off skating circles around each other on the ice in front of you all. 

your heart warms looking up at your girlfriend, never having been able to picture how far you two would come from just being dorky little freshmen. you know it won’t be for long, but the brief peace it brings you is enough to power you through the rest of the day. you hope it’ll last, but make peace with the idea that this might be the eye of the storm.

-

(the peace only lasts the night, and the storm stirs starting the very next day.)

this week, with a deadline for your senior project approaching, you’ve been the one with limited time to squeeze in megan. you make it work between facetimes and quick coffee dates, the two of you agreeing to spend at least a few nights out of the week together even if it’s just to sleep alongside each other, but you can tell that your schedules are working in opposite directions.

even today, when you’re done with all your obligations and studying in the campus library by yourself, you’re hoping to surprise megan with a quick dinner after practice, but your plans get thrown off when you get an unexpected call.

a call from eunchae, of all people, with the most random favor in the world to ask of you.

“hey, will you come to practice? like, now?”

“what? is everything okay?” your voice jumps an octave in disbelief. 

eunchae knows that you don’t come to practices, unlike some of the other hockey girlfriends, due to just how distracted megan gets by you being there. megan can focus when you’re cheering her on for games, but she’s explicitly banned you from practice after one too many missed shots because she’s too busy being nervous around you.

you’ve always found it sweet, and you know eunchae knows megan’s rule, so that’s why it’s surprising you that she’s explicitly going against the captain’s personal expectations.

“meg’s been, uh, how do i put this…” she pauses.

“eunchae?” you ask, worried with how long she’s taking.

“acting out,” she finally blurts, and you feel yourself grow even more confused. “it’s weird.”

your megan? your laser-focused, super professional megan, acting out?

“i’ll be there,” you tell her quickly, shutting your laptop and hurrying over to the hockey arena where they practice in a few short minutes.

eunchae is waiting for you by the entrance of the rink, out of view of the team, holding a tampon much too obviously in her hand. you laugh realizing this is probably the excuse she used in order to get off the ice and avoid suspicion when she gave you a call and waited for you in the middle of practice.

“acting out how?” you ask her, feeling your brows furrow in confusion.

“watch how she gets with ryujin,” eunchae tells you, before handing you the tampon to hide and putting her helmet back on, heading back out to the ice. you sneak in, trying to make yourself small and unnoticeable amongst some of the other girlfriends who are sitting and studying or watching from the bleachers.

megan is too focused on the ice to notice you. you can see the sweat dripping down off the tip of her nose, a testament to how hard she pushes herself every practice, how eager she is to give her all. she zips past the other girls during the drills, and you’re almost starting to feel guilty for spying on her. 

but then, as the practice comes to an end and they split into two teams to practice a quick scrimmage, you see it happen.

it’s almost lightning fast, and you’re not really good enough at hockey to know the intricacies of what it’s supposed to look like, but you can tell that megan is expecting haerin to pass something to someone else and get it to her to make a shot. 

haerin does as she’s supposed to, taking a pass from eunchae to send it over to ryujin, but ryujin is too busy blocking off the opposite wing to notice the pass. the puck slides past her, between her legs, into the waiting hands of the opposing girl, who skips past the wings and sends it straight past maya’s glove, scoring the other girls a point.

“left side wins,” dani announces easily. “good game, ladies. see you all tomorrow.”

you can tell the scrimmage is supposed to be light hearted (they only played for one point, for christ’s sakes,) but the moment dani announces that megan’s team didn’t win, you see the ginger rip her helmet off her head and throw it angrily into the plexiglass. you feel yourself jolt at the clang of the helmet against the barrier, the loud thud it makes that rings through the otherwise quiet rink.

and then you hear her voice, loud, booming, aggressive, echo through the arena.

“hey, if you’d get your head out of your ass, you’d have seen that shot, you idiot.”

ryujin instantly stands up straighter, and you see her whole body tense. “sorry meg.”

“i don’t want sorry, it want it fucking right.” megan scoops another puck from behind the box and drops it on the ice, sending it flying towards haerin and motioning to ryujin. “run it again.”

“but practice is over,” ryujin says weakly. 

megan shoots a glare at haerin, who quietly complies and recreates the pass over to ryujin. ryujin ignores the pass and stares at megan, but this just infuriates the ginger even further. she grabs yet another puck, sending it more aggressively at haerin once more.

“shin, do it the fuck again,” megan demands, her gaze hard and serious as the other girls simply watch, dumbfounded and clearly in fear. “you’re not off the ice until you fix it.”

you look to dani to do something about it, but she’s too busy talking to the other coaches to notice what megan’s doing. 

ryujin misses the pass once more, and you can see her face turning more and more red as megan drops puck after puck, insisting she go until she gets it right. the girls all stay frozen, watching the events unfold, until haerin exhaustedly sends a pass to ryujin that she finally catches, sending the pass to megan. 

megan catches the pass, and as if to prove a point, slams a shot so forcefully into the empty goal, it shoots the net backwards several feet. you feel your stomach drop at the display of anger. megan waves them off wordlessly and gets off the ice. 

eunchae’s eyes come up to meet yours from where you’re hiding on the bleachers, the girls all silently trickling off the ice. you can hear ryujin crying as she rushes past the rest of the girls into the locker room.

megan stays, and so do a few of the other girls like maya and moka and haerin, practicing a few more maneuvers with their captain, but nobody says anything among them. it makes your heart ache, remembering how she’d used to spend an extra hour here with kazuha, yunjin, lara and dani, practicing, laughing, catching up. now, the extra practice is heavier, silent and solemn, with none of the joy that used to have megan coming home rambling like an excited puppy about whatever nonsense they had gotten into between the five of them.

you wave her over, and see her brows lift in surprise as she realizes you’re there. she skates over to you, but doesn’t stop for a kiss or even a greeting. she simply gives you a look, as if to ask what you’re doing there, and you can tell by her clenched jaw that she’s still holding onto some frustration from that interaction.

“what’s that all about?” you ask, crossing your arms, motioning to the display from earlier.

“she’s just cocky.” megan shakes her head, making no attempt to apologize or explain otherwise. “but she has zero reason to be that arrogant. makes me irritated.”

“i’ve never seen you get irked like that before,” you say worriedly, your brows furrowing. “much less talk to a teammate like that. megan, you made the poor girl cry.”

“did you just un-ironically use the word irked?” she asks, ignoring the rest of your comment. you feel the irritation build up at how casually she’s treating all of this. your megan would never dream of turning the rink into something so toxic, so full of fear.

“i’m serious.” you warn her. “chill out. if your coaches thought ryujin needed the extra work, they would have made her run it over again.”

“fine, fine, i’ll apologize,” she shakes her head, reaching for her water bottle. “maybe i was too intense. sorry.”

“don’t say sorry to me,” you wave her off. 

you wait for her to finish up with the rest of the girls, but you can’t shake your discomfort at the side of megan you saw.

-

as it turns out, this isn’t the last incident megan has where her temper flares.

you’ve never once thought of her as an angry person, and considering the sport she devotes her life to, that was something you felt like you lucked out on. you somehow managed to bag the only hockey player in the world without a raging temper, your silly little girlfriend, easygoing and mellow. this lack of temper was what made her so good in her role, focused and intense, able to lock into what she needs to do without the distractions of her emotions. sure, anxiety would run rampant through her, but she’d turn that adrenaline into fuel to work smarter, never using it to snap at others.

you know it’s the stress getting to her, but after eunchae has to call you several times throughout the next few weeks, it’s starting to wear you thin, on top of already worrying you.

(what is happening to your sweet megan?)

your presence doesn’t do enough to deter her from some of the comments she makes, some of the harshness she takes out on the girls. dani’s obviously used to the verbal abuse she takes from the head coach and doesn’t do much about megan’s occasional tirade, but even if she did, you wonder what it’d take to get megan out of this headspace. you can see the way the girls look at her, eyes equally full of admiration and fear, and you never would have imagined your sweet captain would lead by fear, not in a million years.

with finals coming up, of course you’d rather focus on studying somewhere quiet, or going through flash cards with minji and marsh, but eunchae has asked you to stay just a few more practices. they’ve made it to the finals, and championship games are always a stressful time for the whole team, but if eunchae is worried, you know you should be too.

this night, she takes it too far, with haerin slipping up on a pass and accidentally sending it in the opposite direction of where the play requires. 

megan, seeing this, gets so angry that she takes her stick and snaps it over her knee, skating over wordlessly to grab another one without so much as a second look in haerin’s direction. you can see the younger girl and how her lip quivers, the way all the girls on the bench flinch as megan approaches, the way megan skates as if she has a chip on her shoulder.

practice ends, and you walk out wordlessly, deciding to wait for megan outside the building instead so you don’t end up calling her out in front of her friends.

she spots you as she steps out, showered and looking so cute with her skin pinking up against the chill of the december weather, but her eyes are dark and unreadable. you can tell she’s still internalizing the anger of the practice, still holding on to everything from the ice.

“that was too much, by the way,” you tell her, your voice stern and even. you’ve had enough of trying to guide her gently to self-correct.

“haerin keeps messing up the flow on the ice,” she defends herself, making no effort to reach for you.

“she’s new, she’s still getting the hang of it,” you remind her. “she’s just a freshman, megan, balancing the same things you did back then.”

“but i didn’t mess up when i was a freshman,” she pushes back, and your heart thuds painfully at how gruff her voice sounds. 

“megan, you’re also like a child prodigy,” you remind her gently, trying to bridge the gap by reaching for her hand. “you can’t expect everyone to be as good as you were.”

megan lets you hold her hand, but makes no effort to squeeze back. “dani expected that of me and look how i came out.”

“but you’re not dani,” you say. “and more importantly, they’re not you.”

megan shakes her head, dropping your hand to bite at her fingernails, an anxious habit of hers. “she can’t go pro making mistakes like that. none of them can.”

“megan, not everyone wants to go pro,” you remind her. “i get that you’re really good, but let people make mistakes and learn from them. i’m not trying to hurt your feelings, but you sound like a jerk.”

you realize the last part slips without your meaning to, but by the time you try to correct yourself, she’s already taken a step back, her brows furrowing.

“a jerk? seriously? for what, for trying to help everyone get to where they need to be?” she asks. “hard work is the only way to get there.”

“okay, relax ego,” you narrow your eyes at her, so, so confused where this stranger has come from. “yes, hard work is important, but so is knowing when to take a step back and just breathe. working hard shouldn’t cost you everything.”

megan dips her head, her serious eyes meeting yours in the dark of the evening, her expression cold and harsh.

“y/n, you’re not understanding. i’m the only person who can get them there. it’s me, or it’s nobody, and i’m not letting this team fail.”

“you’re not thinking straight. you’ve always been a captain that cares about building the girls up, not tearing them down when they don’t act like you.”

“if they gave half as much of a shit as i do, i wouldn’t need to set them straight,” she says frustratedly.

all you can manage to do is to take a step away from her, away from this unrecognizable stranger. you can empathize to the moon and back, but this isn’t your megan, and talking to her as if she is starts to make your stomach hurt.

“figure out what you want, and what it’s worth, because i don’t know what version of you this is,” you tell her, trying to step back, eager to put some space in between you and this stranger.

megan’s eyes are intense, nearly panicked, and for every step you take backwards, she moves forwards to keep looking in your eyes. 

“what if this is the only version of me? what then?” she pushes, her face tense.

“i don’t believe that. you can work hard and still be kind. you’ve never lost one in being the other. i don’t get why you’re letting yourself start now,” you push back, shaking your head.

“i can’t believe you’re picking a fight with me this week of all weeks,” megan groans, taking a step back and pinching the bridge of her nose.

“megan, i’ve been trying to be sensitive because i know you’re going through a lot, but it’s not just this week,” you tell her, frustrated that she’s trying to pin this on you. “it’s been the last few months.”

“i’m under a lot-” she starts, but you hold a hand up to cut her off.

“a lot of pressure, i know.” you grimace at the excuse everyone’s made for her, but you’ve had enough. you try to soften your voice, to plead with whatever part of her could rationally hear you. “i’m not asking you to give anything up, i’m just asking you to consider where your head’s at.”

her voice softens, meeting yours, and she lets out a quiet, pained breath. “i can’t lose focus.”

“i’m not trying to distract you,” you reassure her, reaching for her arm. “i just want to make sure you’re going to be okay.”

“i’ll be okay when we win and i’m drafted,” she says firmly, fixing her eyes on the ground.

“you’re losing yourself in the process,” you plead with her.

“this has always been me,” megan says quickly, finally bringing her gaze up to meet yours.

“no. you were never like this,” you push against her words, holding onto her hand by her index finger to reassure her. “i know that for a fact. you have never once been like this. when i met you, i thought you were the biggest jerk alive, and you proved me so wrong. that’s why i fell in love with you.” 

though you treasure the memory of getting to know her, something about the way you bring it up sets her off, her face hardening again as she pulls away from your grasp, yanking her arm back.

“i’m not that stupid freshman any more, and you’re not some hero who can save me again. i’m fucked if i don’t figure this out on my own. nobody’s coming to my rescue,” she spits angrily, a tone that shocks you.

“i didn’t mean it like i saved you,” you furrow your brows. “tutoring you was the best thing that ever happened to me. you’ve never been stupid—”

“i know you think i’m taking it too far but not everyone can just ace every class,” she blurts, interrupting you, taking another step away from you. “some of us don’t just get everything handed to them that easily.”

her words cut harsher than you could have ever imagined. firstly, the implication that you haven’t worked for what you’ve gotten to is extremely unfair, but even worse, it’s like your body wasn’t prepared to hear such words out of her mouth. in all your years together, megan had never once raised her voice, never once snapped at you, no matter how bad your disagreements got. she’d go quiet, take some space, and come right back ready to see things from a new perspective. never once had she insulted you— your walls have been down far enough you never thought that was a danger you’d need to protect yourself from.

“don’t talk to me like that,” you say simply, blinking back tears. “you’ve never talked to me like that.”

she’s too far gone into whatever headspace has taken over. you can see her eyes glaze over, forgetting where she is, who you are to her.

“i think-” she starts.

“megan,” your voice is sharp, a warning.

she blinks once, twice, her eyes fixing on something beyond you, unable to meet your eyes. “i think i just need a little bit to figure some things out.”

“i trusted you when you said you wouldn’t dream of hurting me,” you snap, hurriedly wiping the tears from your cheeks when you feel them fall, unsure of when they started spilling in the first place. “i don’t know where that girl went.”

you can see it shift in her eyes. the memory to her first championship game. your confession, her confession, how long ago it was and yet how fresh it felt to you.

“i’m hurting you,” she whispers, her face tensing.

“when you figure yourself out, let me know. when my megan comes back, you tell me, because i have no clue who you’ve turned into. i’ll be here.”

you turn on your heel and leave her to figure herself out. you don’t know where this leaves you, but she doesn’t chase after you, and that’s enough for now. 

-

minji and marsh are gone when you get home. you assume they’re on a date, which stings mildly as you remember all the double dates the four of you were able to fit in over the summer. you don’t need to bother minji with your drama right now, but being alone in the apartment means you need to figure something out to get megan out of your head and give her space. you’re hoping a few hours will give her what she needs to cool off, but the evening trickles by and you’re mindlessly on your phone, nothing to be heard from megan.

it’s close to midnight when you’re dozing off, startled awake by a sudden buzzing in your hand.

lara raj. she isn’t one to cold call, usually texting first, so you’re a bit worried about what this means for you.

you pick up, curious as to what she could need so late in the evening. 

“hey y/n,” she drawls, clearly trying to sound casual. “not to be super crazy or anything, but nobody’s seen megan since practice, and her location is off.”

“is she with you?” dani butts in quickly. 

you check your phone and realize megan has turned her location off for you as well, something she hasn’t done in your time dating (except for the time she tried planning a surprise birthday party for you, which she gave herself away several times with her terrible ability to keep anything secret.)

you figure she’s not planning any surprises and let out a sigh. “is she not replying?”

“no,” dani says.

“she hasn’t come home yet,” lara says simply, the concern palpable.

you take a beat before thinking back to her most likely spots. “have you checked the lake?”

“oh, duh, have we checked the lake,” you hear dani say in the background. 

“can you come with?” lara asks.

“i don’t think she wants to see me right now,” you admit. “we had a pretty bad fight.”

“a fight?” you hear dani’s disbelief palpably through the phone. “what the fuck?”

“megan?” lara clarifies, as if you could be possibly talking about anyone else.

“i don’t know who it was,” you shake your head.

“we’ll be there in a few.” dani tells you. “let’s go get her head on straight.”

they pick you up as promised just a small while later, and the three of you drive out to the park to see if your guess was right.

you can hear her before any of you see her. the clack of her stick against the ice, slapping pucks into the snowbank over and over again. you’re shivering even beneath your thick jacket and sweatpants, and you can tell megan’s been out here for a while based on how flushed her skin is, even in the dark.

“go away,” she says shortly as the three of you try to approach as peacefully as you can. lara and dani take the lead and you hang back, hoping to not make it feel like an ambush.

“baby’s grumpy?” lara teases gently, stepping out onto the ice with her, trying to keep her balance in her gripless sneakers. “c’mon meg.”

“fuck off,” megan responds curtly.

“um, who shat in your shoes?” dani arches a brow. “relax.”

“i need to focus,” she waves them off, and you realize she hasn’t spotted you yet.

“meg, don’t be rude,” lara pushes.

“you’re not the boss of me,” she snaps quickly, skating away to turn her back on them.

“i think you should go,” lara tells you quickly, eyes widening as she approaches you again.

“she doesn’t care that i’m here,” you scoff, motioning to how easily she can head off without realizing you’re there. you’ve never been mentally prepared for her cold shoulder, and being on the receiving end hurts more than you’d care to admit.

“she cares,” dani says quickly. “she’s just being stupid. i’ll prove it.”

“y/n?” megan looks up at the sound of your approach, and her eyes linger on you with something more, something like an apology in waiting. 

“apologize,” daniela says firmly.

“what?” megan gapes in surprise.

“fix it,” dani emphasizes, pulling you along towards her. you feel dani’s hand drop to your waist. 

in all your years of being friends, she’s never once tried anything with you, so the gesture feels both platonic and unusual all at once. you know she’s absolutely crazy about her girlfriend, and assume this has something to do with getting under megan’s skin, which you’re not thrilled about.

“don’t do that,” megan says quickly, and you can see it. her eyes darkening. you realize dani’s intention to set her off to prove a point.

“apologize. to lar first, and then to y/n,” dani repeats, her tone hard and bordering on aggressive. you remember this version of her, the night that she got into that fight, the way she so fearlessly stood up to those girls from the other team. you can’t believe megan’s at a point where her own best friend has to step up to her like this.

“i was never fucking scared of you,” megan snaps back, yanking dani’s hand off of you. 

she’s rough with dani, but when megan reaches for you to move you back, her hand is so gentle against your hip gently moving you to the side, and part of you relishes in the touch. you’ve missed her gentle self, the way she reaches for you with such tenderness. 

“well you fucking should be,” dani growls back. “you’re pissing me off, puppy, and off the clock, not as your coach— i’ll beat your ass.”

“dani, don’t ever put a finger on y/n again,” megan warns, and you feel yourself wish you could escape whatever is about to go down.

“you don’t get to be jealous girlfriend when you’re being the world’s biggest dick. y/n loves you, you owe her an apology,” daniela argues, kicking a puck in her direction.

“it’s fine,” you shake your head. “megan, i tried coming here to fix things, but you’re too stuck in your own head to see it. when you’re cooled off, i’ll be here. when you care about literally anything else but yourself, let me know.”

“you guys don’t care,” megan snaps, her brows tensed across her face angrily. “stop ganging up on me.”

“where is this victim complex coming from? we just want to help,” lara sighs.

but megan’s not finished, and she points her hockey stick threateningly in dani’s direction before looking to you apologetically. “and dani, don’t ever use y/n as bait again. i’m sorry they dragged you into this.”

“you’re dragging her into this with your fuckass attitude,” daniela calls her out, taking a challenging step closer. “give her a real apology.”

“megan…” you start, but megan and dani are too lost in their stand off for her to hear you.

“fuck you dani,” megan spits angrily. 

“they might have patience for you, but i don’t. fix it, now,” daniela presses back, reaching out once more for you as if it’s a threat.

in a flash, megan is rushing forward, dropping her shoulders to grip dani in a locked grasp and tackle her flat, slamming her back onto the ice.

“no, enough!” you scream quickly, leaping in to try and pull them off each other, but a soft pair of hands reach for you first.

“let them,” lara stops you, holding you back by the sleeve. “meg needs it out of her system.”

“not like this,” you grimace, trying to reach for her again, but lara simply holds a hand out to stop you.

“it’s a hockey thing,” she shakes her head. 

you watch as daniela wrestles for control over the grapple, what megan has over her in size and strength, dani more than makes up for in technique. megan’s on top for a few frightening moments before dani maneuvers them easily into a flip, quickly wiggling her way out to now straddle the taller girl. you gasp and feel your stomach drop as dani doesn’t hesitate to land one, two, three quick blows to megan’s exposed face, the ginger bringing her arms up to try and shield herself. 

megan ducks out of the way of the fourth punch and lets dani punch the ice beneath them instead, the older girl groaning as her fist makes contact with the solid, frozen wall. megan uses the quick break to land a harsh blow of her own to the side of dani’s face, throwing her quickly off of her as daniela reels from the strike to her eye.

you’ve had enough. yes, you’re mad at megan, but that doesn’t stop you from caring about her, and watching her fight some of the people she loves most pains you beyond imagination. you turn on your heel and escape to the street, quickly seeking the closest uber to come pick you up. you feel sick at what you’ve seen them all come to: megan, her friends, her team. you hope a night apart will give them all a chance to sort themselves out.

-

you’re too distressed to sleep even in your own bed, not wanting to be surrounded by the memories of megan cuddling you or the pictures of her you have scattered throughout your room. you come home and fall asleep on the couch in the living room, hoping you’ll wake up to some sort of clarity. 

no texts from megan, a missed call from daniela, 3 missed messages from lara.

you bite back the knot in your stomach and close your eyes, deciding you’ll ditch class today to focus on studying.

you sleep through the morning and wake to the smell of breakfast from the kitchen, the sound of the tv kicking on with no concern for your sleeping body. leave it to minji to play animal crossing at full volume even when you’re clearly trying to sleep.

“you’re such a dick, dude,” you groan as she sits next to you on the couch, unphased by your attempts to rest.

“good morning,” minji pokes your cheek. “it’s noon, by the way.”

“what do you want?” you roll your eyes, trying to turn the opposite direction.

“haven’t seen you sleep out here since we moved in,” she observes, eyes focused on the tv the whole time as she assesses the status of her island. “you good? where’s puckhead?”

“she’s been busy,” you say simply, not exactly eager to relive the events of last night.

“ah,” minji says simply. “too busy to say hi to her friends?”

“too busy to be nice to her girlfriend,” you say, hoping it’s enough.

“pouting doesn’t suit you, it’s gross,” minji grimaces. 

“be nice,” marsh yells out from the kitchen, always so quick to run to your rescue. 

“what are you trying to get at?” you wrinkle your nose at minji.

she shrugs, taking a hit from her pen as she keeps her gaze steady on the screen. “megan is a massive loser, yes—”

“minji,” marsh warns once more, as if it’s the only thing she’s capable of doing. “be nice!”

“i am best friends with the most emotionally incompetent person in the world,” you groan, trying to hide your face behind a random throw pillow.

“listen to me, i’m cooking or whatever,” minji says irritatedly. you find it hard to believe that she’s worth listening to: your half-high roommate, in her spiderman underwear and an old oversized t shirt, acting like she’s some oracle. but you’re sort of out of options, and minji’s put the controller down, so at this point you might as well hear her out. “megan is a loser, because she’s scared of a lot. and when she’s not being a loser, she’s acting not-scared, but what are the chances of her still being scared?”

“i know who megan is,” you tell minji, hoping she gets to her point sooner rather than later.

“you’ve never seen her too scared to find a solution. this might be it,” she says simply, staring into your eyes with her own serious ones. “she might be pushing you away while she thrashes around, ‘cause she’s never figured out how to navigate hard shit around others. she’s always had someone to fall back on, now she’s the fallback.”

“i know all this,” you say as if it’s obvious.

“but does she know that you know all this, or are you still just bagging on her for not having it figured out the way you do?” she asks, and the weight of her words hits you. “are you judging her for getting it wrong, when she’s never been taught how to get it right for something this serious?”

“thank you,” you whisper quietly under your breath, realizing this is the wakeup call you needed. you sit up and check the calendar— megan’s schedule is packed to the brim until her game at 6. 

her final championship game of her college career.

“you wouldn’t be with her if it weren’t for me.” minji says, self-satisfied smirk on her lips as she goes back to playing her game. “think of that next time you insult me.”

“you’re not that emotionally constipated after all,” you beam, wrapping her into a quick hug. even though she simply sits there and grunts, you know your roommate has your back.

“told you she could be nice,” marsh laughs from the kitchen, coming out to offer you a smoothie she’s put together. “we can drive you to the game later, if we’re still invited.”

“of course you guys are,” you reassure her. “i wouldn’t be with megan if it weren’t for minji.”

“and i wouldn’t be with minji if it weren’t for megan,” danielle beams. “we all sort of owe each other, in a weird square sort of way.”

“meg loves all things weird,” you smile. 

-

the first championship game you ever came to, you made it late. every game since then, you’ve been sure to show up at least an hour early, seated in front of the player box, where megan’s tickets get you the best seats in the whole arena, and this time will be no different. 

you still remember how excited she got when you custom ordered a university jersey with her last name, especially since college sports don’t allow selling custom merch. wearing your one-of-one “skiendiel” jersey seems fitting.

you think to text her and see if you can steal her away for a second, but before you can do anything, you spot the flash of ginger wandering out of the locker room. you can see the paleness in her face, the way her lip is bright red from how hard she’s been chewing it, the clear tells of how unwell she’s feeling. your heart aches for her, and before you can help it, you’re barrelling towards her, not caring where she might possibly need to be right now.

you collide into her with enough force to push her backwards, but she’s steady enough on her feet to take the hit and keep you both standing. your arms wrap around her and you’re breathing her in, her comforting scent, her familiar warmth, her strength and her softness all at once.

she melts into you as soon as you grip into her, pressing her nose into the top of your head as her arms wrap even tighter around you. the hug feels so, so comforting, leaving so much in the air lingering without causing either of you to suffer for a moment longer.

“you still came?” she asks in disbelief, those big eyes taking you in as she moves to take a step backwards and eye you over. you can see her seriousness melt away as she takes you in, the jersey, your presence, your genuine excitement to see her. 

“i haven’t missed a championship game since i met you,” you remind her, offering a gentle smile as a peace offering. “sure as hell wasn’t going to miss your very last one.”

megan opens her mouth to say something, but she pauses, her face twisting into something pained. you can tell she’s remembering the events of the night before. you take her in, realizing there’s some bruising around her cheekbone from her fight with daniela.

“i hurt you,” she says simply, clamping her eyes shut with a grimace.

“well i love you, and i have for a long time, and i think i know you pretty well. i don’t think you meant to hurt me.” you offer quietly, reaching for her hand. “i think my megan is in there still, just scared.”

“i’m fucking terrified.” you finally hear her admit it, and you look down to realize her hands are shaking. “of everything. this game, my career, our future.”

“you don’t have to be,” you reassure her, trying to reach out to steady her hand.

“i don’t have anything else going for me,” she breathes out, trying to even out her nerves. “you don’t understand.”

“i don’t see it that way,” you push back gently.

“i’m going to go play this game, and then i’m going to beg for forgiveness for being the worst girlfriend ever and a shit communicator.” she quickly takes both your hands in hers, bringing them up to her chest. you can feel her racing pulse against your palms, thudding against her ribs. “and if you’re still mad at me, i totally get it and i’ll go jump off a bridge asap.”

“shut up,” you laugh, and she breaks out into a smile that makes you feel like everything might just end up being okay.

“i’ll keep apologizing as a ghost, i’m serious,” she’s still sticking to the bit, but you can see her eyes start to tear up. “i messed up so bad. i’m really sorry.”

“go do what you do best,” you reach up to kiss her nose, careful to avoid the bruising. “i’ll be here, cheering you on like always.”

“i don’t want this to be the only thing i do best. i want to be a good friend, and a good girlfriend, and a good person,” she says determinedly.

“i love you,” you reassure her.

“nice,” she beams, and you laugh at how only she could make a tender moment so, so stupid.

“at least say like, samesies or some shit,” you beg.

“will you accept ditto?” she asks.

“if i have to,” you wrinkle your nose.

“cool then, ditto,” she grins, reaching down to press a gentle, pleading kiss against your lips. “i love you a lot, y/n. i’m sorry again.”

“you got this,” you reassure her once more, and you can hear the calls of the coaches beckoning her over. 

you wave her goodbye and find your seats again, busying yourself debriefing minji and her girlfriend, shooting a text to lara to let her know the resolution you’ve reached.

the two teams make it onto the ice and you spot the ginger braids peeking out from beneath the helmet, the way megan waves to the entire arena for what will be the last time in her college career. you can see her taking it in, deciding what she’s going to make of tonight, who she’s choosing to be right now. 

you spot dani coming out with the rest of the coaches, sporting a particularly gnarly black eye, no doubt courtesy of your girlfriend. she seems tense, but as soon as she spots you in the stands and glances back at megan, who is simply smiling at you, she nods approvingly and claps to get the team’s attention. they have a team huddle, and you can see the nervous eyes of so many of the newer girls darting around as the cheers from the arena get louder and louder, announcing the impending drop of the puck for the face-off.

eunchae leads them in a chant, and megan sends them off with the team battle shout, each of them slamming their gloves into the helmet of the girl next to them, a tradition dani had started with megan as a sophomore. it’s so cool to see them hyping themselves up, turning their nerves into pure adrenaline, and you see megan lock into her mindset of pure focus as she heads onto the face-off with a look of sheer determination.

the puck drops and she’s off like lightning, the puck nearly invisible with how quick she wields it. you look out to the ice, seeing the new faces, the way things have changed. eunchae stays in the back, holding down the defenseman’s position, but instead of lara, maya guards the goal protectively. instead of yunjin covering defense with eunchae, now it’s moka, looking determinedly out across the ice. instead of kazuha and dani working together to move the offense back and forth in their favor, like clockwork, like mirror images, it’s ryujin and haerin, a bit more scattered, but still quick, still eager, still lightning fast on the ice to pressure their offense.

and the anchor of the team, megan as center, carrying the weight of the team on her shoulders. it’s up to her to score, to call plays, to navigate traps, to see holes in the defense and predict where the offense is going to be. it’s her job to protect maya as the goalie from ever having to see the puck, to trust that moka and eunchae know what they’re doing and can cover the back end of the ice on defense, it’s her job to read ryujin’s movements and see where haerin is trying to take them, to weave between the two of them and catch every pass or assist every shot they try to make. 

hockey is the thing you almost lost your megan to, but watching her on the ice, the way she seems to almost float effortlessly and maneuver the puck with insane expertise, reminds you exactly why she’s poured all she has into this sport— to be the best, nothing less.

you stay on your feet for the entirety of the game, eagerly watching each stolen pass or shot taken. even minji, seated next to you, and often unbothered by most sporting events, seems moved to cheer for megan every time the ginger steals another pass or tries to move into a shooting position.

the game is tense. the first period ends in a drought, a simple 0-0 that sets the tone for an even more aggressive 2nd period, the other team ramping up their efforts to blitz maya in the goal with a more aggressive offense. 

megan, who picks up on this immediately, calls out to eunchae, and eunchae immediately compensates by playing harsher on the incoming offense, clearly indicating that she will not hesitate to protect her goalie at all costs. you can see maya’s confidence grow with each protective shot cut off by eunchae, the way moka eventually finds her stride and manages to cut off several incoming attempts, shooting them straight back up the ice at megan. 

you’ve never been part of a team like that, but you can tell that the girls are finding their groove, megan’s leadership doing more than just keeping them from losing, but building their synergy, the trust between all of them. you see an opposing offense come in, slipping past ryujin, but moka is quick to call out to maya, who in her increasing confidence, is all too quick to catch the puck before it can even try to hit the net.

megan doesn’t take a chance to let her guard down, but she pumps her fist excitedly at the save, yelling out something to the defense line that has moka beaming and maya matching her smile. 

eunchae catches your eye by the end of the second period, sending you a thumbs up. you feel your chest lighten. you see it in the way they move, in the way megan keeps nodding back at all of them, orchestrating them on the ice, hearing the coach’s directions and implementing them as she sees fit. the joy in her eyes is back. she’s truly, sincerely enjoying herself for what looks like the first time all season.

0-0 in the final period is not a good sign for either team. you know megan is going to ramp up her attacks. she’s described her playstyle as more opportunistic before— whereas kazuha was conservative, and daniela had the stamina to be relentless, megan has always described wanting to play smarter, to find holes and exploit them instead of waiting for clarity or rushing to catch the defense off guard. any other players would start to panic, maybe play sloppy, but megan is a threat because she can wait, and she can watch, and be quick enough to strike without hesitation.

you can see it in the eyes of the other team’s girls, trying to goad her into picking a fight with one of them. they’re getting rougher with her, slamming her around more aggressively than her position would ever call for, even when she doesn’t have the puck. 

but megan, more determined than ever, keeps her gaze laser focused on exactly where she needs to be.

the clock trickles down, and even though their defense has done an amazing job of preventing any shots, you know it’s up to megan and the offense to get a score up on the board. they wrestle over the pick over and over, the push of both teams trying to get up on the other. you watch in eager anticipation as the game risks going into overtime, the minutes trickling down into the very end of the game without a single score between the two of them.

the other team gets sloppy in one of their attempted scores and you see megan lock in on the mistake. eunchae blocks the shot and their full team is pushed too far up, the pass she sends to megan leaving the center wide open to take an easy shot. it’s obvious, painfully so, that this is it. you feel the stadium pause with baited breath as the puck makes it into megan’s possession, her feet making quick work of moving her halfway up the rink to close the gap in seconds.

megan looks at the goal, then back at the girls. a split second decision. you know it’s her shot to take, wide open and easy enough for her to send.

you see something flash over her features, the vision of her future in front of her very eyes.

in a move that shocks even you, she sends the puck forward, flying straight to haerin. 

haerin freezes, handling the puck for a brief moment before realizing the opening she has. she’s waited a bit too long, by the time she takes the shot, the other team’s defense is already swarming in on her.

the next 20 seconds are a blur. the opposing team gains possession of the puck and megan does everything in her power to chase the other center out of their box, but they’re too late. the opposing offense makes quick work of overwhelming eunchae and moka, leaving a gap for their center to take a shot. maya, despite her speed, isn’t fast enough to block the shot, and you hear the buzz of the shot making it in. seconds trickle by, and the final buzzer goes off to announce the end of the final period.

you look at the finishing score. 0-1.

you hold your breath, spotting the girls all dumbfoundedly shaking hands with the other team as they celebrate their victory, and making their way off the ice. even the coaches are in silence, and you can see megan’s face, hard and stony, as she takes her helmet off her head.

the team crams into the box, all looking expectantly to their captain. you’re half worried she’ll erupt, but you trust her. you walk up to the box and watch their interaction through the glass.

she breaks out into a gentle, almost goofy smile. she looks like a little kid, good naturedly taking the loss on the chin.

“good game,” megan nods, and the girls all seem to take a breath of relief at her simple words.

“i cost us the shot.” you hear haerin’s voice pierce through the air, quaking angrily. the forward throws her stick onto the ground, her face tensing. “why didn’t you just take it, megan? you would have made it.”

“you had just as much chance of making it as i did,” megan says firmly.

“i lost us the game,” haerin’s eyes water.

“i believed in you, it’s okay.” megan pulls her glove off with her teeth, reaching her bare hand to grab haerin by the back of the neck and pull her closer, forcing her to look up at the captain. haerin is still biting back tears, but megan nods reassuringly. “it’s not your fault they made their own shot. kang, you’ll make your shot next year.”

“next year you won’t be here,” haerin pushes back anxiously.

“i was here this year and we didn’t win. i’m not what matters. i’m just glad i had an amazing time playing with all of you,” she smiles once more. “thanks for the kick ass game, guys.”

maya is the first to break out into tears, tackling megan into a giant hug that the rest of the girls swarm into immediately. 

“we’ll make the shot next year,” ryujin promises, between sobs.

“i’ll kill someone to make sure they don’t ever get a point over on us again,” moka threatens, crying into megan’s shoulder.

“you’re missing the point,” megan glares at the underclassmen, laughing as the girls take it too far. eunchae, still panting from the game, beams back at her.

“thanks for thinking i could do it, cap,” haerin tells her, her voice soft. “i’ll make sure it happens next year.” 

daniela having watched the whole thing, shoos the girls to break up their huddle and eyes megan, before patting her on the back.

“that’s what a captain does,” she says simply, approvingly. “good call, meg.”

megan wrinkles her nose sheepishly at the assistant coach, noting the bruise she’s sporting. “sorry for the black eye, dani.”

“that was you?” eunchae asks in disbelief, but the two friends ignore her.

“i’m just sorry i didn’t break your nose. don’t ever piss me off like that again, ‘cause i’ll do real damage next time, alright meiyok?” dani threatens, but instantly hooks megan by the neck and presses a kiss into her head. “i think someone wants to talk to you.”

dani motions to you, and for the first time in what feels like forever, megan’s eyes light up as she catches sight of you.

years ago, the older girls would tease her and make kissy noises when you’d come up to her after a game. now, megan’s respected, the leader figure, and the girls all scatter to give you guys some space as she takes off what she can of her gear before making it out of the box and coming up to you.

“what was that?” you ask, curious into her mindset about giving the pass to haerin. she could have taken the shot and clinched the win to no-one’s criticism, so you’re truly curious what her mindset was for this call.

“dani always trusted me to make shots. she gave almost all her shots to me by the middle of my first season. that’s what gave me the confidence to try, and to get good, and to feel like i could do it and keep up with her.” she explains. “and you trusted me enough to give me a chance. that’s what helped me branch out, and know i was capable. i love teams, i love improving, i love the trust. not winning. i’m sorry i lost sight of that.”

you smile and wrap your arms around her neck. you see it now— megan gives up her investment in herself to invest in the future for these girls, the thing she truly believes in, the thing that made her the perfect captain. she gives up the win to instill the love of the sport in the next generation.

“i have a lot to make right to you,” she continues, her hands shaky as they wrap around your waist, and you feel so, so at home in her embrace. “i have a lot to make up for.”

“i missed you,” you shake your head, just grateful to have her back. the rest will easily fit into place.

“i missed you too.” she hums, pressing her forehead against yours. “never letting that out of sight again. i’m sorry.”

you decide she’s done enough apologizing. you scoop her chin into your hand and melt into a kiss, the sweat from her nose dripping onto you, but you don’t mind. she wraps her arms even tighter around your waist and kisses you back so eagerly it makes your heart thud.

“i was crazy about you then, i’m still crazy about you now,” she tells you, lifting you and spinning you around. “probably gonna be crazy about you forever.”

you laugh and hug her even tighter. the whole thing feels like a win in your book. 

“you know what?” you beam. 

“what?” she grins back at you curiously.

“ditto.”

-

the next morning, megan is giving her statements about their loss in the conference room, but she isn’t solemn or sullen about it. she’s bright-eyed, eager, like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. 

after the coach announces eunchae as next year’s captain (the department clearly learning their lesson about letting the captains make such an announcement) there’s a quick question from one of the reporters to megan about her future in the wnhl and her plans to pursue hockey.

“hockey gave me everything, and i gave it everything,” she says simply, nothing more, nothing less. she flashes a quick, nervous smile, and it’s perfect for her, the balance of sincere and dorky that made you fall for her in the first place.

“what’s next for you?” another reporter asks, trying to goad her into opening up further about her prospects.

“whatever is next, i’ll give it 100%,” megan says carefully. “and i’ll be grateful, and i’ll remember what matters to me. the love of the game, nothing else.”

she nods awkwardly and excuses herself from the table, letting dani and the head coach take over the rest of the questions about what they plan to do without their star player.

you greet megan with a kiss on the cheek, and she returns the gesture by pressing a kiss into the top of your head.

“what’s really next?” you ask, motioning to the google calendar you share that she hasn’t updated for the day.

“uh, will you help me study for finals?” she asks, almost shyly, and you can almost see it play back. your first class together, how awkward she was asking for your notes. it makes your heart flip inside your chest.

“no more interviews?” you question.

“coach and dani can do them together. i need to focus on right now, and right now is a bitchass english final due in 48 hours that my girlfriend would know exactly how to study for,” megan informs you, and you laugh at her determination.

the two of you escape hand in hand out of the building and start making your way towards the library to get a head start on preparing for finals.

you catch her staring at you as you walk, peering out of the corner of her eye. her cheeks flush as she realizes she’s been spotted, and she tries distracting you instead by taking off her letterman jacket and insisting on placing it over your shoulders.

“what?” you question, accepting the jacket without protest.

“you are really so pretty,” megan breathes out nervously. 

“thank you,” you smile back at her. those big brown eyes, her button nose, her dimples. “you’re so fucking cute.”

“you make me nervous,” she mumbles quietly.

“still?” you ask in disbelief.

“always have,” she nods, and the way she breathes out makes you feel like she’s finally able to start thinking about what she wants, instead of what she’s afraid of. “you have from the start.”

-

finals are grueling, but you both manage to pass all your exams, and spend your winter break making up for lost time now that the season is over. your anniversary quickly approaches, and megan ditches off-season practice where she’s supposed to be training eunchae in order to spend the whole day with you.

(it’s her first time ever ditching practice since starting the sport, and you don’t take it lightly.)

she’s losing pitifully to you in the snowball fight you’re currently halfway through, and it doesn’t escape you that she’d put her phone on do not disturb in order to focus on you. the last time you two were at the lake, it was her fight with dani, and the time before that, your date that had gotten cut short, so this date feels like it’s making up for all the terrible experiences you’d previously shared.

and what’s best, is that megan is perfectly fine with just playing in the snow, no longer insisting on teaching you how to skate.

her phone falls out of her pocket as she tries packing another snowball to toss at you, and you notice that even through dnd, her mom has called her at least four times since your date has started. megan’s mom is close to megan, but not exactly the clingy type, so this raises a flag for you.

“why is your mom blowing you up?” you ask, pointing to your phone as she picks it up out of the snow. “everything okay?”

“i’m not interrupting another date to take a stupid phone call,” she furrows her brow, preparing to tuck it back into her jacket.

“it’s your mom, meg,” you reassure her, laughing at her determination to be better. “it’d be different if it was coach.”

“fine,” she grumbles.

she takes the phone off and brings it to her ear, a quick greeting in cantonese before you hear her mom rambling something at a million miles an hour. you grin and tackle her backwards into a snowbank, the two of you sinking into the powder with a laugh as you simply rest on top of her while she keeps chatting away with her mom. 

it seems like the usual check in until you see megan’s face change, her features widening, her skin going pale. you almost insist that she put it on speaker before she quickly hangs up. you realize her hands are shaking as they slip the phone back into her pocket.

“you know how my mom does all my management stuff?” she starts, voice wobbly.

“loser,” you laugh, realizing that megan has kept all her management as her mom’s job instead of hiring a real agent. “but continue.”

she gives you a blank stare, her mind clearly not fully there following the phone call.

“they want me for the olympic women’s hockey team,” she says simply, and you feel your jaw drop.

“holy shit, megan,” you gasp.

“the winter olympics are in london next year,” she tells you, and the two of you connect the dots at the exact same time. “you’ll be halfway through your program.”

“that’s convenient,” you beam.

“olympic players always go back in the draft,” megan tells you, her words picking up in pace, her voice growing more and more excited. “i’ll take a month or two off to sight see, and then i’ll go to the combine for drafting. if i’m lucky, a team will pick me up as soon as i’m done.”

“megan, that’s amazing,” you bury your face into her neck to wrap her in a tight hug. “your dream is coming true.”

“my dream isn’t hockey,” she corrects you quickly, running a hand through your hair. “it’s just a future where i’m happy. think you’ll be part of it?”

“wherever you get drafted i’ll go with you,” you nod reassuringly. the smile she gives you back is worth everything to you.

she scoops up a pile of snow and shoves it in your face. you scream with laugher and scoop up one to smash right back into her nose, watching as she tries to wiggle herself out from under you and shove you further into the snowbank.

-

the semester is grueling, but you make it through in one piece, and so does megan. graduation rolls around before you even realize it, and your time as college students is quickly coming to an end. 

at the graduation, you and megan have to split up as you separate into your different majors and departments, but she presses a kiss to your forehead before you depart. 

“i’ll be the loudest cheer in the room,” she promises, smiling at you. you can’t help but admire how cute she looks in her cap and gown. the way the cap just slightly brushes her eyebrows reminds you of how low she used to wear her beanies, and how she still sometimes will.

you shuffle into line and take inventory of all your friends from the year, all the things this university has given you. sophia in the crowd next to your family, minji and danielle in their own caps and gowns waving from their section in the graduation lineup. you know daniela and lara are cheering you on from their spot with megan’s family.

the department heads read off the names, and you feel your ears perk up as they approach the name of the ginger that had come out of nowhere your freshman year and changed everything for you.

“megan skiendiel.”

you hear an air horn go off, followed by another, and the whole arena erupts into an echo of cheers. you can see from the crowd where several people have printed up blow up heads and are waving them around. you can make out some of the newer girls and realize nearly 2 full rows of seats are taken up by the entire women’s hockey team, the babies who’d follow megan anywhere even with all they’ve been through. they wave the blow up heads wildly around, cheering at the top of their lungs as if they’re at a game and not at some respectable academic demonstration.

you see megan’s cheeks flush as soon as she spots the stupid display, no doubt daniela and lara’s idea. she takes her degree and makes her way off stage.

your department comes next, and you beam as you take to the stage.

“y/n y/ln, graduating magna cum laude.”

you can hear the uproar from your loved ones, but one voice is cheering longer and louder than all the rest. you look down at the graduates and see megan with her hands cupped around her mouth, cheering as loudly as possible. you see her eyes shining brightly. she’s usually not a huge fan of bringing attention to herself, but your stupid, goofy megan doesn’t stop cheering the whole time you’re on stage.

your families join after the ceremony into one giant group, made even more chaotic by the fact that the entire women’s hockey team is eagerly trying to fit into the picture as well.

megan smiles at you, and takes your hand in hers. in that exact moment, you can’t picture anything you’d ever want more than this.

-

your phone background is a countdown of how many days are left until megan lands. it’s been a grueling 4 months without her, but she’ll be in your city prepping for the olympics in no time at all. plus, she’s sent weekly care packages, and her twice daily facetimes make it a little more bearable. 

you admire your desk, the way your life has all fallen into place. 

on your bulletin board, pictures of your life: you, minji, and marsh, all posing at one of megan’s games your junior year. you and megan celebrating her second championship game win. you and megan on the beach when she had brought you to hawaii to meet her family the summer after sophomore year. a photo of the two of you at the surprise party the underclassmen had planned just before summer ended. one of you and sophia at the renaissance fair. megan cheering you on at your senior capstone presentation. the photo of everyone from graduation. one of the first photos you had ever taken of her, a picture from freshman year during one of your many study sessions.

your hands unpack the envelope that megan had saved for you specifically. the magazine drops into your hands, and the familiar eyes look back up at you from the photo on the cover. 

you hold the magazine up and look up proudly at the cover. the sullivan award, amateur athlete of the year: megan skiendiel. 

megan. your megan, as she’s always been.

[iisayfa]

another katseye lover we are destined to be best friends

YESSS YOU ALREADY KNOW ITTT ( and our names being somewhat similar stop it 👅 )

[iisayfa]

┈─★ 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 ( 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧 .) / pt ii.

         ⊹ ࣪ ˖ a few years after the worst heartbreak you've ever known, you're back at the ranch for one week to pay your respects after your grandfather suddenly passes away. you're convinced you're over the stupid farmhand that made you swear off love— until of all people, megan skiendiel shows up at your door, same hat, same boots, same sad brown eyes.

         ˎˊ˗  🌾  ⊹ ࣪ ˖  🔓୭˚.  ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

   ➴ pairing: cowboy! megan skiendiel x f!reader

          ➴ genre + wc: 12k, modern cowboy!au, exes to lovers, jealous + protective bf megan wahhh, explores themes of grief, slice of life, small town vibes, MILD angst, we KILL the cowboy (jk happy ending i swear!!)

   ➴ you might want to tune in...: 𝗢𝗦𝗧: golden hour - kacey mustgraves. ♫ 𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗜: i don't trust myself (with loving you) - john mayer. ♩ 𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗜𝗜: still your girl - gamma skies. ♫ 𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗜𝗜𝗜: wait by the river - lord huron. ♩ 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗧𝗦: superglue - role model. ♫

          ➴ 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗶 can be found here. ᵎᵎ

  cw:// suggestive scene, mentions of death (parent/grandparent.)

your skin crawls being there. same place, 3 years later. 

“sorry we couldn’t get you from the airport,” your uncle apologizes.

“it’s okay. the train wasn’t all that bad.”

“it’s so nice to see your face round here again. wish it was under better circumstances.”

you’re not quite sure how to respond. when your grandfather passed away suddenly, your parents did nothing but argue about who would come to represent your family at the funeral. both insanely busy with their own jobs, the role fell to you, much to your protest. but considering his money was what was going to fuel you through your future goal of med school, you had little room left to argue.

(after all, you’d also promised yourself you’d never mention a word of what that summer did to you, and that was a promise easily kept.)

now here you are, back at the place you swore you’d never return to, trying to get through the week unscathed.

“who are they?” you ask, motioning to the two random boys working together to take your bag into he house. they stumble over themselves, struggling to get the handle to tuck away.

“just some sorry excuses for cowboys,” old pete spits. “ever since the kid left, we needed the hands. but they ain’t much help.”

the implication isn’t lost on you. they needed two guys to do what megan did by herself. 

“y/n,” your aunt’s voice cuts in, sounding worried. “your uncle should tell you-”

“i don’t want to talk about it,” you cut her off, knowing already by the tone where this is headed.

“she doesn’t want to talk about it,” your uncle reiterates, shrugging.

-

you’re napping on the sofa by the open window to enjoy the mountain air breeze when a rustle outside stirs you. you hear the crunch of gravel, some footsteps making their way up to the porch, and a thud as someone sits in the old rocking chair.

“use the truck as long as you’re here, you get that old thing to run better than anyone. thank you again for coming,” your uncle’s voice is muffled against the hum of the cicadas. 

“don’t mention it.”

you feel a jolt through your spine. you know that stupid voice.

(worse, you remember that stupid phrase. her first words to you.)

you leap off the couch and see her clearly through the window.

she’s leaning against one of the posts of the patio fence, arms crossed over her chest, a suede jacket and blue jeans with those stupid boots and that stupid fucking hat.

you feel immeasurable rage bubble up and out of your chest, and before the sense can kick in, you’re racing past the front door and pushing her backwards full force, sending her toppling backwards off the railing and onto the dirt.

those brown eyes look up at you, wide and full of confusion as she processes what’s going on, and you feel instantly sick to your stomach as you take her in. three years weren't enough to forget every feature of her face, and you ache realizing that her eyes are heavier, the creases between her brows deeper, and her smile lines faded.

(she’s older now, and granted you are too, but years ago, you were dreaming of being the one to grow old with her.)

“you’ve got some fucking nerve showing up here,” you spit.

if you were half a screw more unhinged, you’d slap her then and there, but a part of you knows a girl who takes beatings from thousand-pound cattle or pissed off horses would probably hardly even flinch at you.

she rises to her feet slowly, the patio fence the only thing between the two of you. she dusts off her jeans and eyes you with uncertainty. you want to be in her face again, but she mirrors your movement like a wrangler watching a bull, careful and calculated. for every bit you lean to move towards her, she leans away.

“y/n…” your uncle tries to quell you, standing up from the chair.

“you didn’t even go to your mom’s own funeral and you’re coming to my granddad’s, who you barely fucking knew?” you blurt, barely able to contain yourself as you stumble over your own feet. “what kind of stupid fucked logic is that?” 

her jaw goes hard, and she pulls the brim of her hat down to cover her eyes from your view. she waves curtly to your uncle and makes her way over to the truck, and it fills you with rage to see her drive away down the road so easily. 

“i tried telling you–” your uncle starts, but you don’t want to hear it. you sprint back upstairs into your room and lock the door, trying to calm your racing heart.

it’s just a week, but it might as well be another summer in hell.

-

they know not to ask you about her. 

“i wouldn’t recommend the fields tonight, stay here,” your aunt tells you gently, seeing you pull a jacket over your shoulders as you make your way downstairs, having been holed up in your bedroom since last night’s interaction.

but if anything, that pisses you off more, this stupid girl won’t be the reason you’re stuck inside all day, and you take a horse out through the property to clear your mind. 

(maybe you’ll be less stubborn next time.)

you recognize her instantly once you see her in the steer pen, beer can in one hand, crushed cans littering the fence post where her jacket is hanging and the horse is tied to. your first instinct is to turn around, but your hands stay firm on your horse’s reins instead of backing the two of you out of there. 

you can see her outline faintly against the sunset. she’s waving her hat in the steer’s face, taunting the beast intentionally, dipping out of his way as soon as it starts to run towards her. 

a one-man bullfight. 

as soon as you get your horse finally turning, deciding you’ve had enough, you see her trip over the heel of her boot, slipping and landing back-first into the ground. the steer, seeing red, starts to run directly towards her.

you feel your stomach lurch. as angry as you are, a half ton creature crushing her is probably not the revenge you were seeking.

you dismount quickly and run straight up to the fencing, waving your hands wildly.

“hey! hey you!” you scream at the bull, the desperation in your voice apparent. it breaks the silence between the bull and megan, and breaks his concentration briefly. he turns to look at you, realizing you’re behind the fence, and then turns back towards his previous victim.

but megan, as much as you hate her, is quick on her feet to scramble out of the pen and roll underneath the fence post, her chest heaving as she escapes the near-death experience. 

she’s wobbly as she gets to her feet, breathing heavily still. she grabs her hat off from the ground and dusts it off.

“thanks for rescuing me.”

“you’re selfish as shit, for so many reasons, but getting yourself killed by a cow on the week of my grandpa’s funeral would be another notch on your stupid belt.”

“not my best idea,” she wrinkles her nose, and you feel rage boiling from beneath your skin. 

“drunk, stupid cowboy.” you shove into her, feeling the hot tears threaten the corners of your eyes. 

“you loved this drunk, stupid cowboy, once,” she bites back immediately, faster than you had ever expected, and her voice is strained, as if she’s been screaming or yelling. 

or crying. 

you say nothing and turn around, mounting back on your horse to leave. 

she says nothing, but you hear the crunch of the metal beer can beneath her boot. 

-

“you said she stopped living here,” you tell your uncle over dinner that night. you try to be calm, but your tone changes the words into an accusation instead of a comment. 

“she did,” he tries to reassure you. “she came into town for the service.”

“is that where bruce went?” you question, having noticed only tilla’s presence on the property. “you let him leave with megan?”

“who’s bruce?” one of the replacement farmhand boys asks dumbly, and old pete simply slaps the back of his head to chastise him for interrupting.

“she needed him more than we did,” he insists. “i felt bad splittin’ the two up. she sends me pictures of him every week.”

“you guys still talk?” you feel the back of your neck light on fire. isn’t your family supposed to have your back? “is that how she found out about grandpa?”

“your grandpa loved that kid, said she respected the land, understood it,” old pete interjects, seeing your uncle clearly drowning under your line of questioning. “they talked even after she quit workin’ here.”

“the service is on sunday, like he would have wanted, and then they read his will on wednesday when your cousins all get here,” your aunt reminds you, as if it’s supposed to offer you comfort. 

“i don’t want to be stuck seeing her.”

“that might be hard,” your uncle rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “she agreed to come help out on the property for a few days, just while we arrange everything—”

“you’re joking,” you blurt. “but those new boys are living in her old room.”

“she’s staying in the old log cabin up the road by the stables. you aunt never let us go in there cause of how cold the nights get, but meg figured out the wood stove and where the smoke was leaking from, that damned kid. always so sharp.”

“y/n, you leave in a week, and it’s not like she’s living in the house and having family meals with us. i know it’s not ideal, but…” your aunt tries to console you, but you’ve already stood up by the time she trails off.

you take your plate up to your room and finish dinner with your book in silence. your aunt’s words ring in your head. just get through the week.

-

the next day, thursday, you’re going stir-crazy by mid-day. you’re tired of being holed up in your room since the sunrise. 

if you run into megan, you’ll simply walk away. free will, or whatever. you deserve the right to go explore and find closure, and then never think of this place again.

and somehow, despite the hundreds of acres the property owns, you’re reading up against the fencepost, trying to enjoy the summer sun and the smell of the clean mountain air through the tall grass, and you hear a quiet hum. that gentle, soft hum that had once calmed every pressing worry in your body.

megan’s words ring through your ears.

you loved her, once.

“y/n,” she breathes, recognizing you as she walks along the trail, hands in her pocket.

“what do you want?” you ask, watching as she approaches cautiously. 

“i owe you an apology,” she tells you, kneeling down to be at eye level, still keeping a fair amount of distance between the two of you. her statement catches your attention.

you don’t owe her forgiveness, but part of you needs the closure. 

“i’m listening.”

she takes a deep breath, her eyes avoiding yours. her hands wring together, as if she’s rehearsed this and is nervous to forget her lines. 

and then she opens her mouth, and your heart sinks.

“i took advantage of you that summer, when you were lonely. that was shitty and irresponsible of me. i should have known better. i’m sorry.”

you feel the bile rise up in your throat. you weren’t sure what to expect, but surely this was the worst possible thing to come out of what she could say. that was the last possible perspective you’d have taken about that summer, the way you two grew closer by equal parts proximity and shared time getting to know each other, like two opposites discovering just how much they balanced the other out.

“that’s how you’re looking at this?” you ask in disbelief. 

“i was the only person around your age for miles,” she shakes her head, still avoiding your gaze. 

“you are so full of shit,” you breathe, completely unable to say more than that. “my god.”

“sorry, y/n.”

“you know, i was hoping when my uncle said you’d left, that you’d gone and done some reflecting and growing and there would be even a chance at closure with you.” you stand up, worried if you stay seated any longer, you might pen up too much energy and try to push her again. “but you haven’t changed at all.”

you’re half expecting her to defend herself, but instead, she simply tilts her head looking up at you from where she’s still sitting.

“what, like you’ve changed?”

you scowl at her. “i’m a completely different person than i was back then.”

“tiger can’t change its stripes,” megan says simply. “people don’t change.”

“but they grow,” you cut back quickly, feeling the anger threatening to boil over. “and if you don’t grow, you die sad and alone, which is what’s going to happen to you while i go off and live my life.”

you see megan’s brow twitch.

“and i’ll go off and live it with someone who isn’t scared to be in love with me, ‘cause that’s what i deserve, and that wasn’t you,” you continue, before turning on your heel to start walking away. you’d give anything to make sure she doesn’t see you cry. “i don’t deserve someone who minimizes it or writes it off or runs away from it.”

you hear the crunch of her boots against the dirt as she gets up and catches up to you easily, her voice ringing out from behind you.

“sorry for minimizing it.”

“it’s fucking gross for me to talk about it, but i’m not afraid to admit it like you are. i loved you so much and i genuinely pictured the future with you, and to hear you talk it down to me just being lonely and young— i hate thinking that’s what you think of me.” you stop briefly, trying to shake your head to stop the tears from continuing. “you ruined everything.”

but then she reaches out to grab your wrist, and the contact makes your whole body illuminate with electricity. her grip is gentle, but so unbelievably strong. her eyes are finally seeking yours, her gaze hard and serious, as if she’s flipped a switch.

“did you find someone else while you went home?” she asks, her voice low.

“who cares if i did?” you yank your arm out of her grasp. “i wanted it to be you.” 

“i care,” she says weakly, and you decide you’ve had enough. 

whatever version of megan you might’ve loved is long gone.

“no you don’t care. all you care about is protecting yourself.” you leave your book there, deciding you’ll come back for it another time, and turn on your heel to walk back towards the lodge. “i’m leaving. i’ll see you at the funeral, then i can’t wait to never fucking think about you ever again. bye megan.”

-

one of the trees by the creek catches your attention as you walk back to the lodge, trying to clear your head of thoughts of the ginger. 

there’s a little notch carved into the side of it, like a tally mark.

you turn around the tree and notice that the whole thing is notched. carefully scratched tally marks as high as you can reach, down to the very bottom, made by a hunting knife or a swiss army knife or something.

you keep walking straight back to the lodge. you could swear you hear something like your name being called out behind you, but you chalk it up to the wind and leave it where it lays.

-

friday morning, two days before the funeral service. you’ve managed to find a rhythm where you move fast enough around the property to not get caught up enough to run into megan again. this time, you’re rustling around in the wooded area by the field, hoping to figure out where the hell your book ended up.

you hear the faint rustle of leaves, and then a quiet set of yips and yelps. your legs go numb as you recognize the pattern— megan had taught you how to recognize the noises of different animals, and coyotes sound an awful lot like what you’re hearing around you.

“hey pete?” you call out, trying to see if your sounds can potentially scare them off. “pete?” 

“not funny,” you yell a little louder, your voice shaking slightly. you hear the yelps getting louder, a bit closer, and you try to ramp up your yells, clapping as well. “get outta here! go!”

the noises only come closer, and you wish you would have come prepared with some bear spray or something to get out of this, but before you can worry too much, there’s a rapid sound of crunching twigs through the woods.

someone is running to you.

you can only hope it’s pete, or your uncle, but the ginger hair is quickly colliding into you, landing the both of you into the dirt. you can’t hear the animals any more, and figure it was megan’s chaotic racket that scared them off. 

“you okay?” she asks quickly, her arms holding her up to hover over you.

“get off of me,” you huff, trying to push off her shoulders.

she steps away, and you see the fresh rips in her jeans, the scuffs on her boots, and the briars all stuck to her.  

you look back from where she had run– a thicket of bristles, and you see the barbed wire just a few yards behind.

“what did you do?” you question, trying to piece it together.

“i might’ve gotten caught up in one of the wire fences when i heard you. came running, probably should have been more careful,” she admits, staring down at her ruined pair of levi’s.

“don’t do that again,” you threaten, but your heart abandons you. the near-miss with the bull was enough. you can’t risk unpacking the pain of something happening to her.

“okay,” she breathes simply. she searches for something in her back pocket, and retrieves your book. “this is yours.”

she leaves the book next to you, and turns to disappear back into the treeline.

-

friday evening. you’re face to face with the pond. the air is sticky, oppressively hot even as the sun comes down, and you decide you’re not afraid of anything if you’re able to face all these memories of megan and make it out in one piece.

you don’t exactly want either of the new boys watching you strip down to your underwear, so you tell yourself you can teach yourself how to swim without supervision as long as you stay with your head above water.

admittedly, you’re getting more and more confident with each stride. it’s easy enough to think you’re getting the hang of it when you’re only torso deep, and the water is still. you wade in a tiny bit further, enjoying the cool water against your skin.

your foot slips on a rock much too smooth for you to grip, and you feel yourself slip under the water by accident. you miscalculated just how deep this thing is.

you don’t have enough time to gasp a final gulp of air before you feel the water in your mouth, in your lungs, your limbs flailing to try and get a grasp of something nearby to pull yourself out.

you feel the strong hands, much too familiar, wrap around your waist and heave upwards to get your head above the water. you gasp a breath and feel yourself flailing, but her grip is so strong on you, so firm, you go limp as she kicks backwards to get you back to shallower water.

the two of you collapse on top of each other at the shore of the pond, and she lets go of you immediately.

“you okay?” she asks, those too-familiar brown eyes scanning over you, brows knit together. her clothes are completely drenched through, the fabric clinging to her.

you shove her away, trying to build distance between the two of you, as you reach for your flannel to cover yourself up. “fucking hate you.”

“quit saying that,” she grimaces, her nose wrinkling as she turns to look away from you, as if she’s pained by your statement.

“leave me the fuck alone, megan,” you nearly scream, exasperated.

“you were drowning,” she says back, as if in disbelief.

“i don’t want you near me, what part of that do you not understand?”

“i’m not looking for you,” she snaps. “but i keep finding you.”

“somehow,” you snap back frustratedly.

“somehow,” she echoes, but her voice is softer, and you see her face change. 

you feel your heart thud. you can’t handle whatever is about to come out of her.

“don’t–” you try, but the stupid cowboy is always too fast.

“i tried calling you,” she blurts, “every day, all of fall season after you left.”

“that’s all i meant to you, the fall time? three months?” you shove her further away. “sounds about right.”

she grabs your wrist, again. you freeze, her gaze locking into yours as her voice drops.

“y/n, for a split second, you meant the rest of my fuckin’ life,” she tells you firmly, her voice unwavering. “after the fall time, i called you every friday morning for a year.”

your heart nearly stops in your chest. your fridays in town together. 

it clicks, faintly. the mystery phone number that always called during your friday 8am class, you always let go to voicemail, and it never left a message. you thought it was a spam number and blocked it after three weeks.

“please don’t get back in there,” she starts, motioning to the pond. “if you got hurt…”

she trails off, biting down. you can see the tears welling in her eyes. 

you feel yourself eager to bite back, eager to wound her and make her feel half of what you feel.

if i got hurt? do you know what you’ve done to me?

you’re not cruel enough to drive the point home. you know she knows the damage she’s done. she gets up off the ground and wrings her shirt out before she walks in the opposite direction, leaving you alone without another word.

-

you burst through the door of the ranch house and lock eyes with your aunt, who is at the table peeling onions for tonight’s dinner.

“did megan actually try to call me the whole fall season?” you rush, the words bursting out of you faster than you could think them through.

“why are you wet?” your aunt asks in shock. “y/n, look at the state of you!”

“please,” you press, and you see her face twist. she lets out a sigh and shakes her head. 

“after you left, i could tell something was off. she’d take bruce and make the drive out to town every damn morning before anyone woke up just to try and use the pay phone.” she stands up and wipes her hands on her apron. “blew half her pay a week just on gas alone. she said she didn’t trust the cell service up here on the ranch.”

“every morning?” you question, but your aunt has never been one to exaggerate. 

“then it was just the fridays, like when you two’d go to town and run your errands. when that stopped working for whatever reason, she got it in her head to start writing on the porch and she’d stay for hours writing these letters. she’d go up to the mailbox every morning, then just turn around without putting it in. i think she thought i didn’t see her, but god gave women a sixth sense for these kinds of things.” she shoots you a pointed look. “sneaking about things.”

“oh,” you say simply, the back of your neck burning.

“she lost something when you left,” her tone softens, reaching out a hand gently onto your arm. “kid wasn’t the same after that. never seen her angry before, but i assume that’s what it was– anger. tried to hide it but you don’t just smoke a pack a day and work yourself to the bone without it going noticed, y’know?”

“sorry,” you say simply, blinking as you try to make sense of it all.

“sweetie, your uncle is simple, and old pete doesn’t know anything.” she shakes her head again, as if she’s letting you in on a secret. “and i’m not the type to tell anyone how to live, much less an independent, smart girl like you. i’ll let you make your own decisions.”

she walks away, and you assume that’s the end of it, but she emerges from the pantry with a small box, heaving it with both hands. she drops it on the table in front of you, and you see it’s taped shut.

“but do i believe these are for you.”

you hesitate, but take the box upstairs into your room. you change into some dry clothes and peel back the tape to open the box.

in it, filled to the brim, are little envelopes, no dates, no addresses, no anything. you fish down to grab one from the bottom and slip a finger under the seal to take the letter out. you sit on your bed, taking in the handwriting. 

i think of you every time i go to the rodeo. did you know that’s when i asked for a sign from god? that night was the first time i didn’t beat my own record. every other time, i lasted longer and longer, and the one and only time you came with me, i fell short. i think it was my mom telling me that there’s something else out there that feels better than just winning stupid shit.

you blink, setting the paper down. you read a second, then another, and another. you don’t realize you read through the night until your eyes droop and you fall asleep, pile of papers surrounding you. 

(somehow, her voice rings even louder in your mind.)

-

saturday evening. you slept in til the mid-day to catch up on how late you were up. you’ve spent too long that day reading all her letters, leaving a few of them to save for later that night, your eyes strained from focusing all day. she talks about her mom, about loss, about mourning, about her regrets and her fears.

and she talks about you. every letter, a new memory you didn’t know she had treasured, catalogued away in that supposedly empty brain of hers— a new way to look at each memory the two of you had made that summer. 

your fingers slip one in your back pocket, one of your favorites, one that had validated the experience the two of you had shared. 

we had dinner on the porch today, because the cicadas were singing so beautifully. it made me think about you and the time you sat and kept me company in the rocking chair while we peeled potatoes for dinner. that was the first day i pictured us getting old and grey. i realized i didn’t need the ranch, i just needed you.

you shake your head and try to empty it of thoughts of her. whoever this version of megan was, it was gone, and the one you have now is what you have to accept.

your stomach twists at the thought. you need to focus on anything but the ache in your chest of reliving all these moments, knowing how she felt on the other end of it.

“can i take auntie’s car into the town?” you call out to the house.

“be safe on the road. you don’t usually drive it alone, it can get tiring,” your uncle calls back to you. “her keys are on the mantle.”

you find the keys, and take your aunt’s vw bug out of the garage and onto the dirt road, starting the hour-long drive out to the town. familiar, but never one you’ve done alone, you figure it’s the easiest thing you can do to get out of your own head.

you end up at the bar, the only other thing open past 9pm in this god forsaken small town. you’re used to a bustling night life in your city, but forget that things are much much slower up in the mountain. the parking lot is full of familiar-looking trucks and old cars, clearly a town celebrating the freedom of the weekend. 

you enter and take in the old country bar: neon signs, mounted animal heads, and hundreds of framed photos of people and places around the town. couples dance to the music, others play pool at the tables nearby, and some are getting rowdy near the mechanical bull ride.

you let out a quiet breath and sit yourself at the bar. you feel the crinkle in your back pocket. a letter you forgot to take out before you had left the house.

before the bartender can even get to you, a mustached man posts up in the seat next to you, resting his elbow much too far into your bubble.

“the niece from the city,” he says simply, and you realize you might not be a stranger to these people after all. “let me buy you something.”

“no thank you,” you nod politely. whatever his intentions are, your focus was to spend the night alone in a new place, and considering you weren’t even old enough to enter the bar last you were here, this is your best bet at making a memory in this town for yourself, without megan’s hands on it.

(and how predictably rude of this man to ruin it…)

“i insist,” he pushes, flagging for the bartender to come over. 

“i promise i’m okay,” you press back, rolling your eyes. nothing good can ever exist outside of a man ruining it.

but then he’s taking a strand of your hair in his dirty hand, and you feel yourself tense.

“pretty hair, on a pretty girl,” he tells you, playing with the lock within his fingers, leaning in much too close for your comfort. “how’re you likin’ the countryside so far?”

you feel yourself try to move away but you freeze at how imposing he is in your space. you’re sure any other interested girl would swoon being in your position, a confident man making it clear he’s interested, but this is quite possibly the opposite of what you’d want in this moment right now.

your mouth opens to protest, but there’s no sound. his hand is suddenly yanking backwards, and you see his body swing back out of the chair. you realize he’s been shoved away from you. 

you smell it before you see her. pine and campfire. 

and in an instant, she lands a punch to his face, square in the jaw. 

“sorry sorry, my hand slipped,” she apologizes to him lazily, shaking out her wrist from what you can assume will be an impact bound to bruise. she takes a quick look at him, and you’re shocked when she spits on the ground next to his head, her eyes narrowing. “i’d stay down there if i were you, my hand might slip again.”

“out,” the bartender growls, whistling towards the two of you and pointing to the door. “now. come back when you’re sobered up, kid.”

“what the fuck?” you scowl at her, before a random pair of hands are shoving the two of you out the door and into the parking lot, the chill of the night air nipping at your nose.

megan doesn’t seem the least bit unphased, her eyes wide but focused on you.

“did you get a lot of people flirting with you back home?” she blurts, almost breathlessly. you can see her hand already start to swell, but she’s paying it no attention.

“why do you care?” you jab back. 

“i can’t–” her face twists, her eyes scrunching shut. “i can’t stand the idea.”

you can’t give any thought to her rambles right now. “how the fuck do you keep finding me?”

“i am kinda–” she pauses, wrinkling her nose, “a little drunk. no liquor store so the bar is the only option when the gas station closes. came here and wanted to forget about you.”

you stare her down, contemplating what comes next. the choice is easy.

you sprint right over to your car and lock yourself in, megan irritatedly following behind you and knocking on the glass that now separates you. 

“open,” she grunts, testing the door handle. 

“go away.” you scowl at her through the glass. “i’ll scream, and someone will come and beat your ass.”

“don’t drive an hour home when you just drank like that,” she pleads, her voice softening slightly. she slumps against the car, leaning her face near the window to be able to look you in the eyes. “i’m gonna stay as long as i need to fix this. i’ll stay all night if i have to.”

her eyes are so warm and inviting, even through the barrier of the glass. you have half a mind to kick the car in reverse and let her go tumbling over the hood.

“i don’t want to be around you, what part of that is not getting through your skull?” 

“i hurt you and i ran away instead of running towards you,” she says suddenly, pressing her forehead against the window. you’re shocked by how tender her voice sounds, a world of difference from her apology on the ranch. “i was scared to love something that deep and have it ripped away from me, and i ran away from it instead so it’d hurt less.”

“but it didn’t hurt less,” she continues, her eyes avoiding yours. you see her lip tremble, but she hardens her jaw to steady it. “it left something.”

“i was angry with you. i was angry for the first time in my adult life,” she admits. “i had gone numb after my mom, and then you show up, and it’s like everything was back to full volume after being silent for so long. being up here, it gave me a routine to fall into. it made me stop thinking, and then you showed up, and all i wanted to do was think about you, and the future, and the beauty in everything. you put something back in my head, and when you left, it made me angry.”

“i didn’t leave you on purpose,” you finally manage, silent throughout all of this. 

“you could have stayed. we could have kept everything the same, and you had to go off and leave me,” she pushes back, but her voice is small, barely audible now across the glass.

“the same?” you question.

“we could have lived on the ranch and lived so easy, y/n.”

“i tried to bring you with me–”

“and i wasn’t ready. and that will haunt me forever.” her lips press into a fine line, and your heart thuds as she lets out a quiet breath. “i’m sorry i wasn’t ready to love you how you deserved.”

the apology. a real apology. 

with that, you feel it rise from the gravel, the summer you had burned and buried, the feelings you had worked so diligently to try and rid yourself of before they destroyed you. you can close the chapter where you hate her, and move away from it all. 

“i guess we were just kids,” you breathe after a moment.

“i’m sorry,” she reiterates. you roll the window down, and she leans on the frame, her head poking into the car. “i am really truly sorry.”

“no.” you don’t want her to grovel and ruin the moment, waving her off.  “you gave me closure. done being angry.”

“you are?” her eyes light up.

“i leave wednesday night, and it’ll be easier not having to seethe with rage every time i see you,” you offer as a truce. 

“i’m more than good with that,” she nods, and you feel the next chapter writing itself.

“i’m hungry,” you say simply, and she arches a curious brow at you.

“the diner is 24/7,” she offers.

“dinner, at the diner?” you ask, pointing up the street.

“i need to sober up before i try driving back to the ranch, and so do you,” megan says. “it’s a five minute walk. we can get the cars after?”

you nod and the two of you walk together to the diner, keeping a cautious distance in between yourselves. you ignore the crumple of paper in your back pocket, the letter begging to be read.

she orders a black coffee and watches you the whole time you eat your pancake platter.

you watch her back. your heart echoes something each time your eyes meet silently, but you do your best to quiet it as you make small talk about the town. 

home.

-

sunday finally comes. the service is beautiful, and they bury your grandpa next to your grandma.

“they get to be together even after all they’ve been through,” your aunt says, something like admiration in her voice.

you look at megan, and she’s fixed her eyes on the hole in the ground, biting down on her bottom lip to stay anchored. you can already tell what she’s thinking of and what this brings up for her.

before you can stop yourself, you reach for her hand. she takes it and squeezes it, and doesn’t let go.

-

that night, after the service, your uncle insists on taking the whole family out to the bar, saying it’s what his father would have wanted. your grandpa was a big character, and it’s not out of the picture to think he had asked for something like this to lighten everyone's spirits.

(you don’t mention having been kicked out last night. luckily, nobody asks.)

“you know, when god shuts a window, he opens a door,” your great aunt says, motioning to the couples all paired up for the dances.

“slim pickings,” your cousin wrinkles his nose, motioning to the local singles at the bar.

“oh your generation— i was married at your age. stop being such a pill. just find someone good looking and go from there,” she huffs.

“bet you $20 that you won’t go walk up to the best lookin’ person in this room right now and give ‘em a dance,” he teases you. his side of the family have always been bolder and brasher than you have, but with a newfound sense of confidence, you don’t feel quite ready to step down.

you bite back. “bigger stakes. i want grandpa’s truck.”

“no chance!” he gawks, but the mischievous grin tells you he likes your mettle. “i know for a fact he signed it to me in the will. you’ll see wednesday.”

“no money. i get a dance, and i get them to last longer than 30 seconds on the bull,” you push, upping the stakes.

“ha! i’d like to see what idiot can last past 10.” he laughs and shakes you on it. “truck’s yours if you can do it.”

“the both of you are so crass,” your great-aunt scolds. “we laid him to rest not hours ago and you’re already pawning off his belongings!”

“i want that truck,” you emphasize, before throwing back one more shot to try and muster the courage to do this. 

you scan the room of the people who aren’t family, and your cousin is right. not many options left to try, much less people who seem strong enough to be able to win you that mechanical bull bet.

your eyes land on the tall figure, leaning up against the wall, in that same stupid hat and those stupid boots. you hear the echo in your ear again, but push it away as you approach her.

“hi,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around her neck much too easily. her eyebrows arch nearly off her forehead in surprise, but her hands take to your back with far too much ease.

“hi.” megan says back simply, her nervous eyes looking over your shoulder and then back down at your now-swaying bodies. “is there a reason why your great-aunt looks like she wants to kill me?”

“no,” you grin, and megan can instantly tell you’re up to no good.

“sure it has nothing to do with two girls slow dancing?” she questions, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. she’s so steady on her feet, swaying the two of you along to the song playing over the speakers.

“might,” you continue with the short answers, trying not to give yourself away.

“i figured.” she shakes her head and lets out a snort, but before either of you can question it, her hands are dipping down from your back to the dip of your waist. you want to correct her grip, but you can’t find the words to tell her to move her hand. it feels much, much too comfortable there, like the grooves were made for her strong hands to hold onto. 

“if she’s mad about this, she’s gonna hate watching you beat all my boy cousins at riding that mechanical bull,” you laugh.

“what? i’m not getting on that thing.” she wrinkles her nose, motioning over to the bucking machine. “no self respecting bull rider would.”

“i can’t convince you?” you bat your lashes up at her, though the thoughts of the bet are starting to fade from your memory as you look into those perfect brown eyes.

“convince me?” she echoes, laughing. “you want to convince me?”

“maybe i just wanted to see if i’ve still got it.” you’re not sure where this sudden rush of boldness comes from, but you chalk it up to the drinks and the lively vibe of the bar party.

“oh, like you don’t have suckers for you back home?” megan teases, though her voice waves and drops the slightest bit. “i’m sure you’ve got a line waiting out the door for you.”

“i might,” you goad on, curious about her shift in tone.

“please tell me you’re not interested,” she insists, eyebrows knitting together, and part of you buzzes at the way her voice shifts in the slightest. 

“not many cowboys in the city to pick from.”

“is that your type?” she inquires, and you feel her grip on you tighten slightly.

“maybe it was, at one point,” you hum, trying to stop yourself from playing with the baby hairs at the base of her neck. “but only the cowboys who’d do anything for me.”

“hm,” is all she says, her eyes searching for something in you. you’re about to say something more, but the song ends and megan lets go of you, excusing herself with a nod of her head. you wonder if you’ve pushed her too far. 

you head back to the bar to grab another drink. you’re barely getting the cup from the bartender when you hear an obnoxious rise of cheers from the other end of the room. you look up at what’s causing the ruckus, and feel yourself smile against your will.

stupid megan, riding that damn mechanical bull, her knuckles white as they grip onto the handle and her face tensed with focus. the timer on the wall with big red numbers keeps ticking up, up, up, until she’s set the new bar record without so much as a slip. 

“fuck!” you hear your cousin scream from across the bar, throwing his drink angrily into the wall.

you offer a slow clap of congratulations as megan fans herself off with her hat and comes marching up to you.

“hope that’s proof you’ve still got it.” she points a playfully menacing finger in your face. “please don’t go testing any other cowboys. this one will do just fine.”

you feel something pluck at you from deep in your chest. those eyes that know you. those hands that make you feel safe. that voice that unnerves you and comforts you all at once. 

the feeling from the diner comes back. home.

“drive me back to the ranch, cowboy?” you ask suddenly, reaching out to her. “i want to get out of here.”

her eyes widen, clearly caught off guard. you can see the debate in her eyes, the pause between the two of you, the quiet, hesitant swallow she takes before opening her mouth again.

“of course,” she nods, grabbing her jacket off the barstool and handing it to you, out of habit. you see her freeze and start to pull her hand back, her uncertain eyes meeting yours.

you grab the jacket from her and step ahead of her into the parking lot, slipping the worn denim over your shoulders. you take a deep inhale. pine and campfires. home.

-

the drive back up is mostly spent with you listening to her hum along to the radio, your first time listening to country music in god knows how long. her voice is soft as it’s always been, melodic and peaceful, and you’re focusing on the moonlit grass as the truck finally makes it to the trail leading up to the property.

“i— um, thank you, for today,” she breaks the silence, avoiding your gaze to focus on the road.  “i’m sorry it wasn’t the other way around.”

“don’t be. i knew my grandpa was at the end of it,” you reassure her. “i’m sure it wasn’t easy for you thinking about your mom.”

“it was easier with you,” she says softly. “thank you again.”

there’s a heavy pause between the two of you. you don’t know what possesses you to speak up, but you do.

“i read your letters,” you blurt. “i think all of them.”

“oh,” she blinks, eyes widening.

“thank you for writing them like you said you would.”

“of course.” she lets out a quiet breath as the truck takes a familiar turn up the road. “thanks for reading them, i guess. never thought they’d see you.”

“is this the cabin where you’re staying?” you wave for her to stop the truck, wanting to get a better look at the tiny log cabin off by the pasture. “my uncle said you fixed the stove in there, got it to heat up.”

“you know me,” megan shrugs dismissively. “still no good at much else but fixing and wrangling.”

you swing the truck door open and step out, wanting to get a closer look at it. it’s tiny, likely only one room, but it suits her somehow. you can picture her so, so cozy here.

“you could come in, and see how the stove works,” megan offers slowly, her eyes hesitantly following yours.

you know it could be a clean end, to ask her to drop you off at the lodge and go from there, but something is calling you to her, and you can’t seem to quiet that voice this time. you nod, and she fidgets with her keys for a moment to get the door open, grabbing a log from the pile in front of the door.

you enter behind her, and she’s tending to the woodfire stove that warms the whole cabin. it’s tiny, exactly how you’d imagined, but the roar of the fire and the coziness of the space makes you admire how megan had managed to make this old abandoned cabin seem like a home.

(or maybe, that’s just megan’s touch.)

“what are you thinking about?” you ask, noting how she keeps her gaze fixed on the stove, her hands in her pocket as you two stand on opposite sides of the fire to warm yourselves. 

“just felt nice to dance with you again,” she breathes quietly, as if it’s a confession.

“reminded me of that night in the field,” you admit, without thinking. you notice her brow twitch, and you take a careful step closer to her, tilting your head to try and meet her gaze. your voice quiets. “did it remind you?”

“it did,” she confesses.

the way her voice shifts is stirring something in you. you reach out, gently wrapping your index finger around her pinky, as if to test her.

“i think you should leave,” she breathes quietly, looking down at your now-laced fingers.

“why?” you ask gently, carefully.

“i can’t tell you why,” she answers quickly, something worried in those big brown eyes.

“i want you to tell me why,” you press, and you can feel it in your chest, bursting against your ribs, begging to be spoken out loud.

megan gives you a look, a look of hesitation, and you try to meet her eyes with your own pleading gaze. 

“i want to ask you to stay,” she says slowly, “and then it’s going to crush me when you go.”

“so then i just don’t leave,” you whisper back, taking another step closer towards her.

“i can’t keep you here forever.” her brows are furrowed, and you can tell she’s debating something within herself.

“be brave enough to ask,” you press again. 

“please stay the night,” she pleads, reaching for your entire hand, eyes sincere and voice shaky. “and then stay forever.”

you feel the thud in your chest multiply into a thunderstorm. 

“do you remember my birthday?” you ask, holding tighter onto her hand.

“of course.”

“i wished for you,” you admit. “that i’d get to stay with you.”

“oh,” she says simply, her eyes softening.

“and then you promised me you’d take care of me for the rest of my life, and i felt like i was dreaming.”

megan bites her lip. “i broke any chance of that, didn’t i?”

“i want you to ask me again,” you press one last time, and megan doesn’t leave you waiting.

“i’d like a chance to fix it.” her eyes, wide, pleading, warm, dig into yours. she takes your hand and presses it against her cheek, scanning over every inch of your face. “all of it.”

“i need to hear you—” you start, but she cuts you off quickly. this stupid cowboy, who knows you like the back of her hand.

“i love you, y/n,” she beats you to it, your hand still caressing her face, but she pulls at your belt loop to bring you close, her strong arms pulling you in to press you into her. she presses her forehead into yours, her eyes scrunching shut as if the confession pains her.  “i love you like you wouldn’t believe. loved you then, love you now, think i’m gonna be stuck loving you until i’m old and grey.”

you don’t need anything else, and a part of you thinks megan knows that. you pull at her jaw to kiss her, a kiss to make up for each one she’s owed, and the echo silences itself as she kisses you back forcefully, eagerly, her strong arms wrapping around you to lock you in place against her.

back in megan’s arms, you are home.

-

“i missed you,” she breathes into your neck, sliding your shirt over your head much too easily, the kisses she plants along your collarbone sending shivers through your entire body. “a lot.”

“mmhmm, less talking,” you hum playfully, one hand grasping the back of her neck to keep her close as the other trails off under her shirt and up the hard planes of her stomach.

“i’m serious,” she pushes, nearly a growl. you haven’t heard her voice like this, low and gravelly in your ear, and it sends a twinge through every nerve in your system. 

“i know you missed me. you punched some stranger in a bar just ‘cause he tried buying me a drink,” you tease. you pull her hand away from your belt and point to her swollen, bruised knuckles as if to prove your point.

“i punched him ‘cause he touched you,” she blurts, stopping her movements to hover over you in the bed and meet your eyes. her dark eyes are taken over by something that makes your heart race. “i saw red. i couldn’t even look at another person after you left.”

“the whole time?” you ask breathlessly, wanting to squirm beneath her but she has you trapped beneath her strong arms as she simply stares, looking you over. “were you waiting for me to come back or something?”

“i felt sick thinking about anyone else,” she grimaces. “and i felt sick thinking about you with anyone else.”

“i didn’t think i was ever going to see you again,” you confess, and you feel her pause, connecting the dots.

“did you think of me?” she finally asks, eyes searching for something in you.

“all i could do was wish they were you,” you admit.

there’s a heavy pause, megan still hovering above you, but you see something flip in her, those dark eyes unrecognizable. she sits up, pulling her own shirt over her head in a swift motion before she runs a finger along your bottom lip, her calloused thumb tracing your teeth. you’re eager to beg for her to do something, anything at this point, but the moment you try to sit up to kiss her back, she pushes you back down by the sternum, her hand staying pressed against the base of your neck. her forcefulness makes your brain go numb.

“each of them, all i could do was wish they were you each time, megan,” you repeat desperately, seeing the effect it had on her the first time. your wish is granted, and she leans back down to nip a quick, forceful kiss into your neck. 

“that’s my girl,” she murmurs into your ear, before stepping back next to the bed to stand and let you watch her undo her belt buckle. you feel your mouth go dry at the sight, your pulse racing at the clank of the metal and the impending zip of her jeans. 

“yes i am,” you grin, before she reaches back for you, strong hands pulling at what’s left of your clothes to reclaim what belongs to her.

-

the next morning, you’re back in time 3 years and reliving the summer romance with the wrangler. you know your timeline is shorter now, but that doesn’t make it any less thrilling to be back in megan’s arms.

she’s carrying you on her back as you two wade through the pond, your arms wrapped around her neck as you bury your face into the crook between her neck and shoulder. your whole near-drowning thing had traumatized her, and she refused to let you near the water without her present. you don’t mind– you’re enjoying the feeling of her strong back, admiring her pretty face and slicking her hair back from the water our of her eyes.

“why did you quit the ranch, when you said you’d stay?” you ask curiously. there’s two days left with her, and you want to use it making up for lost time, unpacking everything left unanswered. 

“found something that i loved more than i loved the ranch.” she says, as if it’s that simple. she splashes at a dragonfly along the surface of the water. “it hurt too much to keep thinking of you everywhere i looked.”

“you missed me,” you repeat from the night before.

“if only you knew half of it,” she hums.

“what did you do to that tree out there?” you point to it, the cut up one by the water. “it looks like a wolverine mauled it.”

she hesitates for a split second, before a sheepish smile takes to her features.

“i told myself i couldn’t keep driving myself crazy, so i’d make a notch in the tree for every day i still felt like i missed you. i promised myself that once i stopped putting tallies in there, i’d be officially over you.”

you wait for the resolution, but it never comes.

“i killed the tree. too many notches,” she says flatly. “the days i’d missed you didn’t end.”

“that’s a lie,” you laugh, splashing water onto her face.

she shakes her head and turns to look at you from over her shoulder, her gaze serious.

“y/n, i never got over you. you took a part of me with you,” she breathes. 

“i’d like to take all of you with me, this time around,” you tell her quietly. 

“as you wish,” she smiles, and you reach for her jaw to melt into a kiss over the song of the cicadas and the frogs.

-

tuesday comes, and you’ve spent every moment with megan, to the point that it’s your first time coming back to the lodge in almost 24 hours to pick up fresh clothes. 

“you plannin’ on staying the rest of your trip up there at the cabin with the kid?” your aunt asks, arching an eyebrow at you as you run into each other by the stairs.

“maybe,” you eye her hesitantly, but she waves you off quickly.

“don’t play coy, i’m not bein’ nosy,” she rolls her eyes, pushing you by the shoulder as a reprimand.  “i need to know if i can give your room to your other cousin when she finally gets up here tonight.”

you smile faintly. “that should be fine.”

moments later, megan shows up on one horse for your two person trail ride, and you realize all notions of keeping this to yourselves are good as gone. your aunt gives you a look after she spots the ginger out the window.

“i’ll have the boys take your stuff over to the cabin while you’re gone.”

“thank you,” you nod.

megan spots you through the window, and breaks out into a giant smile as she tips her hat down at you. you look up to see your aunt witnessing the entire thing.

“i’m glad you came back, y/n.” she says simply. “i think we all are.”

“i am too,” you finally admit. she waves you off, and you slip out the door to go run into your cowboy’s arms.

-

the night before the will-reading, you get an email that your flight is delayed til thursday, and it gives you an extra few hours with megan. you change your train ride to thursday morning, and the two of you spend the extra time locked away in the cabin. 

“i owe you a real apology,” she mumbles, pressing her lips into your shoulder blade from behind as she spoons you. her voice is soft against the combination of evening crickets and curious owls. “i’m sorry about everything.”

“you already apologized,” you shake your head, watching the flames from the oven cast shadows against the wall, outlining her face into the wood. “i forgive you. i owe you an apology too.”

“you have nothing to be sorry about,” she says back quickly, her fingertips dragging along the skin of your thigh and up to your hip.

“i tried to push you to heal sooner than you were ready for. i thought i could fix you.” you had done your own reflection, and granted, it doesn’t excuse how things ended, but you know there’s no moving beyond this without accountability.  “i wouldn’t know what it’s like to miss someone like that. i judged you for something unimaginable. i’m sorry.”

she kisses the dip between your jaw and your ear, her nose pressing into your neck.

“it used to be easy to just run away, but i think i’m healing confronting it head on,” she says quietly.

“proud of you,” you murmur back, reaching to pull her hand to your lips and kiss along her almost-healed knuckles.

“i wish you could have met her,” she says suddenly, her lips still against your neck, and your heart aches for her. 

“i’m sure she was perfect,” you say simply, and megan nods in approval.

“she would say the same about you.”

-

wednesday. the will reading, which they decide to do on the porch of the ranch, as your grandpa would have wanted.

your cousin is less than thrilled when the attorney reads off the list of allocations and indicates that grandpa’s truck is indeed in his name. he gives you the keys as soon as they’re handed to him, and megan’s eyes widen in surprise.

“the old ford?” she questions, her voice quiet to not disrupt the rest of the proceeding. “it’s your uncle’s favorite.”

“uh, it was your favorite if i remember correctly,” you laugh. “you spent so much time fixing that stupid thing up.”

“i fucking loved that thing,” she beams, and you realize maybe that was your motivation this whole time. “you’re so cool.”

your cousin’s whining voice bursts you and megan out of your bubble.

“y/n’s not even listening, and she’s got the ranch in her fucking name!” your cousin bemoans.

you feel your heart fall into your stomach. “excuse me?”

“i told him i’ll take care of it until i’m tired, but i won’t turn into old pete and waste my life wrangling cattle til i’m grey.” your uncle dusts his hands on his jeans, getting up from the rocking chair where he was seated. “we don’t have kids. i saw this coming. he said you were the only person who saw it for what he saw it for.”

“but med school is–” you start, but he waves you off.

“i’ve got a few more good years left in me. do what you gotta do, then sell it when the time is right.”

“that’s all in your name,” the lawyer nods at you as a dismissal, and you immediately turn to meet megan’s wide eyes.

“holy shit,” she says simply in disbelief, and you hear your great-aunt grunt in disapproval. 

“you could give it to the kid,” your aunt suggests, motioning to megan. “we all know she’d take care of it like nobody’s business.”

you look at megan, who stares back at you, dumbfounded.

“what would you want to do with it?” you ask.

“baby, it’s the fucking ranch,” she gapes. you take her hand and pull her a few steps away to hide out inside, away from the ears of your family.

“do you want to stay and watch it with my uncle, while i’m gone?” you ask her gently, holding both hands in yours, offering her the solution you feel she’s been waiting for. “you could go back to your old life.”

for some reason, the offer feels like you’re letting her go. but you know how much this property meant to megan, and something about her coming back to claim it as its steward feels so, so right.

but instead, she looks at you with determined eyes. she shakes her head.

“i’m not making the same mistake twice,” she nods, assuring you. she gives your hands a squeeze. “i choose you, and everything else will turn out alright.”

“i don’t know if you’d be happy in the city,” you sigh, brushing your fingertips across her sun-kissed cheeks. 

“not running from anything any more.” she grabs your hand off her face and presses a kiss into your open palm. “i’m happiest where i’m with you.”

“okay,” you breathe. “so we let my uncle keep going til he retires. does that mean you’ll come with me now?”

“i’d need to get brucey,” she says hesitantly. “and he doesn’t fly very well.”

“i’ll go with you to get him.”

“you will?”

“let me fly home, then i’ll come to wherever you are. we’ll road trip, move you out, grab bruce. when is your lease up?”

“i’m monthly, work for lodging and pay.”

“okay. so we get bruce, you move in with me in the city. i start med school, you…”

you pause, seeing the look in her eyes. the planning, the talking about the future so concretely, it scares her, you know it does. the last time her face changed like this was your last day, that summer. you feel yourself want to vomit. 

but megan knows you, and she can sense your apprehension. she reaches for your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

“i can work on cars,” she offers gently, a smile on her lips. “until you’re done with school.”

“that’s an option.” you nod, beaming at her optimism. they feel like shaky steps towards you, not away. your eyes water at the thought of a happy future with her, one you had imagined was ripped away from you.

“or work with animals.” she grins back.

“or go to trade school,” you build on her idea.

“the future, it’s scary,” she breathes. “but it’s gonna come whether i’m ready or not. might as well get ahead of it.”

“and then i finish school, do a fellowship, and once i’m finished, we come back.”

“really?” her eyes light up brighter than anything you’ve ever seen. “you don’t want to sell it?”

“i don’t need a busy life. just a rewarding one,” you tell her, smiling. “small towns need doctors too.”

“i don’t want you to give up your dreams,” she says worriedly, tilting her head in concern.

“you taught me how to slow down. please don’t expect me to be helping wrangling baby cows every morning, but i wouldn’t mind you still being a cowboy. it’s what you live for.” you reach up to tilt her chin back up, reassuring her as you fix her hat. “it’s not giving up. it's a beautiful compromise.”

she grins back at you, and takes the hat off her head to fix it on your own head.

“i like compromise with you.”

-

your final night before your 6am train ride to the airport, she takes you camping in the fields. 

she explains the concept of a harvest moon— a full moon so big and so bright, early farmers could work all night collecting their harvest by moonlight alone. 

the fire she’d built starts to dim down, and you feel the exact same way. you could watch her in the moonlight for the whole night. 

“that’s sagittarius.” she points up an arrangement of stars, her feet crossed and her head propped up on a backpack she’s using as a pillow. you’re laying so comfortably cuddled into her, your head resting on her chest, lulled into a cozy haze by the song of the mountain and her perfect voice in your ear.

“no way,” you drawl, forever impressed by her knowledge.

“and that’s asparagus.”

you blink quickly in confusion. “what?”

“and that’s me getting a headshot in fortnite.”

“you’re stupid.” you push into her shoulder, laughing. “i knew you were full of shit.”

she smiles back and presses a sweet kiss into the top of your head, letting her lips linger against your hair.

“i’ll see you in a week?” you ask, and the question doesn’t feel as heavy as you had thought it would.

“yes you will.” she kisses your head again, humming into your hair. “that’s a promise.”

“thank you.”

“i had you once, and that meant everything to me,” she tells you, breathing you in once more. “i think i spent my whole life waiting for you.”

“i’m here now,” you remind her, cuddling in closer.

“never letting you go again,” she reassures you. 

(you believe her.)

-

“hey baby, the neighbor is asking again when you’re going to sell him the truck,” you call out, pushing past the door into the apartment.

you’re kicking your shoes off in the hallway, giving a quick rub to bruce’s head as he greets you. you hear the rumbling from the kitchen, and you pop in to see the jeans and a vintage tshirt, with her head and torso under the sink, doing something to the garbage disposal.

“he can kiss my ass. that thing is staying in the parking spot that i pay for until the end of our lease,” she threatens back, sliding out from under the sink and washing her hands before hitting a switch. in an instant, the same garbage disposal that was broken this morning is magically back and working. “i’m not driving anything smaller.”

you laugh, reaching out for her. “you and your stupid ego.”

“hey, everywhere i’ve ever lived, lifted trucks are like, the shit,” megan grins, wrapping her arms around your waist to pull you in for a greeting kiss. “it’s the biggest thing we work on at the shop.”

“oh, i bet you’re the number one lifted truck modder in the city,” you nod playfully.

“i’m alright.” she shrugs, wrinkling her nose, but she’s fixed on the topic of her damn truck. “thinking about how sad you’d look getting dropped off by some rizzless loser in a cowboy hat and boots, in a fucking minivan or something. just wouldn’t sit well with me.”

“yeah, all my classmates think the coolest think about me is you,” you gripe. megan’s insistence on taking you to class every day, in the truck, wearing what she always does, has made you quite the talking point among your first year med school classmates. 

“so crazy, ‘cause i think you’re the coolest thing about me,” she grins, looking down at you with a glint in her eyes. “y’know what else i’m thinking about? summer time.” 

“that’s still 2 months away,” you laugh at her eagerness. your last summer break before medical school fully takes over your life, planned to be spent on the ranch with megan, rotting away without a care in the world. 

“we could get married up there,” she suggests out of nowhere, but her voice is so so sweet, it makes your heart melt.

“what is this, farmer needs a wife?” you tease, arching a brow at her. “i thought it was supposed to be a vacation.”

“okay, okay,” she holds her hands, clearly playfully displeased with your response.

“hold your horses, there,” you goad on, and she narrows her gaze at you.

“oh, now you’re just being a pain.”

you grin. “if the boot fits.”

“enough with the puns,” she groans, rolling her eyes, grabbing you by the waist to swing you easily over her shoulder and whisk you into the bedroom, your scream laughs filling every corner of your apartment.

-

your summer vacation comes, and the chilly montana nights welcome you both back with open arms. 

she slips her jacket over your shoulders, and the motion feels as natural as breathing. you see the front pocket is still full of the flowers she picked for you along the trail, meant to press into your book along with a few of the letters she had written you. you keep your favorite letter one in your back pocket, eager to read it to her in between chapters of your book.

you’re walking behind her, following her steps as she confidently leads you two through the field. she’s singing something mindlessly to herself, her voice filling the air comfortingly.

you tuck your hand into the pocket, trying to warm your fingers, and feel yourself freeze. your fingertips trace along the edge of the object, the edges too wide to be her swiss army knife, the top being the wrong texture to be a pack of cigarettes she might be hiding– 

your pulse quickens as you realize inside the pocket, you feel a little box. small, velvet, that kind of box.

“where are you taking me?” you ask quickly, the realization striking you.

“don’t worry about it,” she waves you off. you can’t see her face, but you can hear the grin in her voice, and you can’t tell if you finding the box is part of her plan or an innocent mix up. with megan, it could quite frankly go either way, and you can’t tell which one makes your heart swell more. “ain’t anyone told you that it’s bad luck to question a cattle wrangler on a full moon?”

“you’re making that up.” you try to keep your voice even, not wanting to ruin her plan as the two of you keep walking, but you feel the back of your throat go dry. 

“maybe,” she shrugs playfully.

“stupid cowboy,” you try to bite back, but you feel your voice shaky, and she simply reaches back behind you for your hand. she grabs you, and the two of you keep walking, her paces strong, steady, keeping you alongside her easily. she smiles knowingly, and tips her hat down, her eyes fixed on the skyline.

“i love you too, city girl.”

(the letter rings through your ears, your favorite one out of all of them, etched into your memory at this point so deeply, you know it by heart.

i don’t know if you’ll ever read these, but i fell in love with you that day that you read to me. which one? your smart ass is going to ask. not the one by the creek, or the one by the cows. it was the one on the roof, where you told me to quit smoking. i realized that day i have something really, really beautiful i’m excited to live for. i really, really love you, y/n.

-your cowboy, forever.)

[iisayfa]

MY WIFE LOOKS SO FINE HERE OMLLLL IM QUITE LITERALLY ABOUT TO COMBUST

[iisayfa]

NOBODY SPEAK TO ME😭😭😭

[iisayfa]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝕭REAKING HEARTS

Sophia Laforteza x fem!reader

summary: girlfriend material sophia strikes again, and this time round, she has no intention of keeping how much she cares about you a secret. best be known you don't mess with sophia laforteza when it came to you... she'll be breaking a lot more than hearts thats for sure

warnings: obvious!sophia, mostly fluff, protective!sophia, younger member!reader, everybody simping for ya’ll

Y/N AND SOPHIA PROVING L/NFIZ DEFINITELY DOES (NOT) EXIST PART. 2

17.2k likes | 330k views | 18th Dec, 24

*Loud technical difficulty transition* [ WEVERSE LIVE ] join a y/nfiz hangout <3 You and Sophia started a live while waiting for the girls to come home from a schedule

You sat beside the Filipina leader, your collared shirt unbuttoned and creased, your hair a slight mess and your day-old make up still on your face. The fans loved the domestic look you always seemed to serve when you were at home, and it was safe to say they noticed Sophia was too.

Whilst she ranted on about some silly story you had already heard her tell a million times, you checked yourself out in the camera, the crease in your white shirt collar gave you an itch you desperately needed scratched.

Your hands came up to pop open the collar to your shirt more, revealing your bare chest down the low V cut of the button-up. The fans had begun tuning Sophia’s story out too, because gradually, the chat flooded with comments on your peculiar choice in styling, which caught the attention of the rambling woman. She glanced between you and the comments on the screen, her hand instinctively shooting up to grab your shirt.

user01 raw. next question.

user02 Omg she’s actually tryna kill us w the fit

user03 don’t be shy pop it open a little more ^^

user04 y/n baby save it for the bedroom

“Yo, watch it,” Sophia warned, adjusting your collar so you would be covered up to the base of your neck.

Your hands grab hers gently as you chuckled at the tense expression on her face. “Fia, calm down, I’m like twenty-one, I can wear an open-collared shirt if I want to.” You nodded towards the thirsty comments, smirking. “Besides, it sounds more like the fans want me to.”

Sophia grimaced, her face twisting into something negative before adjusting her sitting position so she was in front of you. She was in an oversized hoodie, so it shielded your body from the camera perfectly.

“Absolutely not if I have something to say about it,” she shook her head, moving her body so she would be shielding you away from the camera. “What’re you all looking at, hm?”

user05 dang baby ain’t nobody tryna snatch her😭

user06 It’s okay cuz if y/n was mine I would gatekeep too

user07 ntm on my girl sophia yall know damn well you’d do the same thing if y/n was your girlfriend

user08 SOPHIA SHARING IS CARING

You sighed, lips quirked at the older woman’s antics. “Can I talk to my people, Laforteza? Or are you gonna hold my shirt like this for the rest of the live?”

“Are you gonna button this all the way up?”

Your eyes widened, “All the way up? What am I, somebody’s Christian mom? Absolutely not!”

“Then yes, the rest of the live.”

user09 sophia confirmed brat tamer

user10 This is too much for my brain man

user11 Idk what’s crazier y/n’s fit or Sophia going all overprotective girlfriend

Eventually, Sophia would shed the hoodie she was wearing and drape it over you, despite your apparent protesting. The friends made note of the way she still seemed adamant on keeping you in the background as your hands peeked through the long sleeves of her oversized sweatshirt.

[ are they looking for a third to their marriage? ]

*Loud technical difficulty transition* KATSEYE MANA Dance Practice; Sophia’s behind the scenes interview

All the members were asked to send you a message. You were out sick and couldn’t make it the day they filmed the dance practice (you did eat so hard at MAMA don’t worry), and as the girls were asked about their feelings, their experiences working towards an award show like MAMA and what they took from this opportunity. Sophia, as the leader, her interview was put last, and she got asked the most hard-hitting questions.

She knew you were getting some backlash from being sick that PR day, it made things much more exaggerated, as if you weren’t present for a lot of things.

[ y/n defender till i die. if i see one comment calling her lazy or untalented, i WILL be reporting you ]

The question: “How have you managed to keep yourself motivated and help support the girls through this journey towards achieving such a milestone?” Immediately, Sophia being Sophia begun ranting on about how every member did their jobs amazingly, how she could not be prouder, how she could not imagine herself fulfilling her dream with such a beautiful group of passionate artists. She then spun her rant away from Manon being a pillar behind the scenes to you, whom your manager had asked her to give a message to.

“It’s actually been really disheartening,” she sighed, her wide smile faltering just the slightest. It was obvious, the way you could see genuine emotion seep through the cracks of her pr training. “y/n’s been sick for about a week, she can barely get out of bed and she just—She’s been working especially hard for this, because this has always been a dream of hers. Most days, we have one of our phones on facetime with her at home. You can actually see her following along next to her bed, and she gets teased so hard for it.”

[ my poor baby, i’m glad she put health first ]

Sophia chuckled softly, “That girl—that girl is so stubborn. I’ve told her so many times to just stay in bed and get better soon so she can actually practice with us here, but I never win that argument.” The camera angle switches to a closer look at Sophia’s expression. Her eyes pan from her hands back up to main camera off screen, glossy and brushed with a tinge of melancholy. “It breaks my heart to see her cry. She loves doing what we do, and not being able to do it makes her feel like she’s disappointing everybody. And the girls do a really good job of making sure those thoughts eventually leave, but she’s just so hard on herself. That is… definitely part of what makes her such an amazing performer, but it’s also what we, as a group, as a family—as Katseye, stand for.”

She pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath. The words, “The members messages to their missing friend:” appear.

“y/n, if you’re watching at home, I love you. The dance room’s not the same without you here, we all miss you, and we really cannot hope any harder for you to feel better soon.” She blew the camera a kiss, “I’ll see you at home. Love you.”

[ she said i love you twice… SHE SAID IT TWICE ]

*Loud technical difficulty transition* Katseye Christmas Video; a segment of the video had the members paired off and decorating their ugly sweaters, naturally, to atone to popular demand, you and Sophia were coupled up

“Yours is not looking good right now,” you teased, snorting at the third glop of hot glue yanking the little fibres off the sweater. You, yourself, didn’t have the most impressive artistic ability, but you enjoyed watching the older pout and grow fussy whenever you would make a comment about her struggling to bring her vision to life. “What is that supposed to be, Rudolph’s distant cousin Rude elf?”

Sophia rolled her eyes, letting out a whiney grumble. “It’s not even that bad, it has a good personality. Stop judging it!”

[ y/nfiz fans getting fed everyone say THANK YOU HYBE ]

You rummaged through the box of decorations you were provided, feeling your attention momentarily divert from the heat exhuming from the show lights. You pulled out a couple streamers, Christmas balls before you found a particular piece of decor that caught your eye.

Apart from the sweaters, you had to make a hat, and you knew everybody was in competition for the most ridiculous design. Inspiration struck, and you had the best idea.

When the sweaters were done, you slipped it on. Yours was a pastel shade of red, with the words “Wish list: Eyekons” spelt out with stickers. You looped the streams along the sleeves, taking the balls all over the sweater. As you stood in front of the slow-mo camera for your glam shot, you could see Sophia smiling at you in your peripheral. You smiled into the camera, blowing them a kiss with a cheeky wink.

[ she’s so fine i need her i need her i need- *gunshots* ]

Back at your table, you added the last touch of glitter before fully giving the camera another close look at your creation. You turned to the Filipina, who adjusted her on.

“Wait, Fia, you gotta look at this.”

She glanced at the camera, a nervous grimace sprawled across her face as you bent behind the table to pick up your hat. “You and creative genius do not mix, like I have a seriously bad feeling about this—!”

You set the hat on your head, a fedora you wrapped in Justin Bieber Christmas wrapping paper. Around the base tied a long rope of frills, strung at the very front a tiny, dangling piece of mistletoe flailing just inches away from your eyes. You beamed, proud of the hat. You eyed the cameras, before puckering your lips in an exaggerated manner. Your hands clasped together, eyes closed. “I’m waiting.”

[ #thisisthemostiveeverrelatedtoanidol ]

Sophia slapped a hand over her forehead, scoffing. “You’ve got to be kidding me, there’s no way you did that.”

“You gotta respect the tradition, Laforteza, come on!” you ushered, leaning in closer as you pouted. “I want my kiss.”

[ sophia’s stronger than me i would’ve folded right there ]

Sophia eyed something off camera, getting a sleek look of approval from your manager.

“Fine, come here.” She sighed, an amused smile on her lips. She cradled your face carefully, tilting her own head before pressing a gentle kiss onto your cheek. When she pulled back, the camera zoomed in on the lipstick stain nearly touching the corner of your mouth. “Merry Christmas, l/n.”

You shot the camera the widest smile, “I must’ve been a good girl this year, cuz my Christmas wish just came true.”

[ no cuz the editors knew what they were doing keeping this bit in for the starving y/nfiz truthers ]

*Loud technical difficulty transition* [ KATSEYE VLOG ] Here are four separate occasions from the same video where Sophia just can’t keep her hands off you

Clip one: You stood up from your seat, second from the left and right in between Sophia and Daniela. You threw pumpkin guts at Lara, who wouldn’t stop making fun of the way you couldn’t balance on your heels earlier when you were filming winx club tiktok’s. Sophia’s hand cupped the back of your skirt, her own pumpkin long forgotten. She pressed the piece of clothing against your thighs, making sure you wouldn’t flash the entire world as you focused on dousing the Indian singer in your pumpkin’s insides.

Clip two: As the six of you waited for Megan to finish up in hair and makeup, Sophia’s arm wrapped around your neck. You, Yoonchae and Manon were deep in conversation about the last time the group was altogether for a schedule, with Sophia mindlessly watching you talk. Fans pointed out her apparent gaze switching back and forth from your eyes to your lips, a small smile perched on her own lips as she watched you joke around with your bandmates.

Clip three: The two of you were pulled aside, tasked to organize the girls into groups to set up a quick little jumpscare for Megan as a surprise to celebrate her official return to Katseye activities since her back injury. Though the video showed a wide are of the studio where you two stood, Sophia seemed adamant on staying just inches away from you, her attention solely fixed on the way your eyebrows furrowed at the ipad they had handed you. Fans noted this as one of the more subtle but iconic l/nfiz moments.

Clip four: As Daniela thanked the fans for tuning in to watch the special Halloween edition of Katseye vlogs, Sophia could be seen grabbing at your hip. Given, her other arm was around Yoonchae, but her hand merely dangled off her shoulder, unlike the sure grip you could see she had on your waist.

[ let’s play fanservice or just gay for the 193837th time ]

*Loud technical difficulty transiition* [ WEVERSE LIVE ] Manon and Daniela being big mouths ;)

“I’m pregnant with talent… I’m pregnant with star quality,” Manon announced confidently, earning a judgemental look from her roommate beside her.

“That’s one way to put it, that’s for sure.” Daniela mocked.

“Where are the others—Okay, hold up, I got this. Let me cook!” Manon set her brush down, raising a finger, the other hand pointing at that finger. “Lara’s out with her sister, Yoonchae’s sleeping next door right now, and… Megan’s still at home seeing her family.” Daniela hummed, “Yeah, her flight’s tomorrow.” Manon nodded, “Yeah, so Megan’s not back yet. And Laffy and n/n are out on their little date right now.”

Daniela squealed, slapped her in the arm, “Stop! People are gonna take that outta context!”

Manon faked a scared gasp, going back to fixing her hair. “Hybe, if you’re watching, I didn’t say that.”

user01 l/nfiz on a date… i can die happy now

user02 MANZ JUST CONFIRMED L/NFIZ LESGO

user03 never EVER pr train this woman

“Yeah, wait, I think Sophia posted it.” Daniela pulled up a Weverse post Sophia had put up not long ago of her in a movie theatre in front of a movie poster. “y/n’s been meaning to watch the movie for her favourite actress and Sophia, of course, agreed to go with her. They’re getting us dinner on the way home, so I’m praying y/n does the shopping. Sophia always tries to trick us into eating healthy.”

“Yeah, she thinks she’s slick too,” Manon snorted, “Let’s be so for real though, y/n opens her mouth and I ain’t ever heard Sophia respond with ‘no’, that’s all I’m saying.”

user04 Manon is so messy I love her

user05 so she’s a down bad girlfriend huh…

user06 manon is a mindset i want to embody

“Yeah, y/n just exists and Sophia’s smitten. Bro, last time they went out for a ‘quick grocery run’, they came back with bags on bags of shopping. I know this little gold digger did not pay with her own money,” Daniela chirped, “I was in the living room when Sophia’s dad called to ask why her card was maxed out.”

Manon sighed, “Chat, let me tell you, Sophia spoils y/n rotten. And I mean, rotten. This woman don’t need no sugar daddy, she done made a sugar momma outta Laffy.”

“Sophia plays favourites. I don’t appreciate it.” Daniela joked.

[ so basically sophia’s THAT type gf, ok, ok… taking notes for science rn ]

[iisayfa]

OH LAWD SPIDEY MEGAN IS SLOWLY TAKING OVER MY THOUGHTS IM GONNA GO FERALLLLLLLL

XOXO, UR ANNOYING SPIDEY — M.S.

'' every time i'm walkin' out , i can hear you tellin' me to turn around .ᐣ.ᐟ ''

── • when the friendly neighborhood spider-girl find ways to annoy you, with love of course!

── • fluff , taking care of wounds , kissing (poorly written imo) , one argument (hurt/comfort)

── • thought i'd switch up my style for a min and see how it looks. divider cr: @cafekitsune

── ♪ now playing : sunflower – post malone, swae lee

🕸️ .WEBSTRING. ゜– prologue

"LOOK AT HER! ISN'T SHE SO PRETTY?" hanni points to one of the cheerleaders, totally enamoured by her beauty. frankly, you couldn't care less because you were too busy thinking about a certain ginger cheerleader who was currently missing from the sidelines. hanni notices your distracted behavior and smiles smugly at you. "you miss megan don't you?" she wiggles her eyebrow in amusement like what she said was the funniest thing ever.

you snap your head towards her with a sharp glare, your eyes narrowed and threatening– with no actual malicious intent. "shut up, no i don't. you're getting the wrong idea," you argued. your chin was on the palm of your hand, your elbow resting on your knee. hanni only rolls her eyes and goes back to watching the game.

"what are you thinking of then?" she questions. you merely shrug.

"the cheerleaders are about to perform but she's not here."

"mm, sad you can't see her dance around?" now it was your turn to roll your eyes, your free hand coming up to push her head away. "it's not like that," you say. "i'm gonna go to the bathroom." you got up from the bleachers and left hanni alone to mumble insults by herself. upon entering the restroom, you saw megan trying to get out of a– spider-girl suit? why in the world would she have that?

"shit, shit, i'm gonna be so late," she rambles, unaware of your presence. when she turned around to be met with your face, her eyes widened in shock and her lips parted. "you're not... you're not supposed to see this.."

"you're spider-girl?" you point an accusing finger at her as if she wasn't wearing the suit right in front of your eyes. "i can explain!" megan exclaims. "what's there to explain, you're literally wearing–"

"ok, later! i'm gonna be late to the cheer performance. can you just... help me out of this?" she pleads, holding both of her hands up as she tried to reason with you. "i don't get out of this suit well under pressure."

"...yeah, i-i guess." you walk over to her and began to help her get out of the suit. once she was out, she looks more like a high schooler in her cheer uniform than some superhero saving the city. "i'll pay you back somehow, uh..."

"yn."

"yn! i'll pay the favor back soon," she promised. "you save the city already, there's no need–" you were interrupted by megan.

"no! no, i should! i can, uhm, swing you around the city if you want." the offer was tempting, but with your fear of heights, you weren't exactly sure. "think about it! thank you, again." she stuffs the suit back into her backpack and dashed towards the door. before fully leaving, she pauses and looks back with a smile on her face. "see you around, pretty?"

you almost choked on air when she called you that. it was totally out of the blue! "okay..." you nod. when she finally left, you let out a shaky breath, your hand clamping over your mouth. you can see the pinkish tint of your cheeks through the mirror, and you can feel the warmth and your heart beating through your chest. megan was so smooth for someone with no conscience of their actions, and it somehow made you a blushing mess. "how annoying."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

🩹 .ADHESIVE. ゜

THREE KNOCKS ON YOUR WINDOW distracted you from your textbooks. it was weird, and fairly creepy, that something was knocking on your window considering how late it was. you grab one of your heavy dictionaries and got up from your seat, holding the book near yourself as you lifted your blinds. it was a dumb move but the person outside was even dumber. "what're you doing here, spidey?" you asked after you opened the window, seeing megan standing there, clutching her side.

"oh? nickname basis already?" megan chuckles, but it sounded weak. she was a coughing fit not even a few seconds later. even breathing made her chest hurt. "you said you're in a medical program right?" you nod, unsure of what megan wanted from you. "can you help me?"

"do you always need help?"

"i'm serious! look!" she shows you the deep cut underneath her hand, blood dripping down her fingers as she held her side. your eyes widened in concern and you immediately pull her in, opening the window wider for her to enter. "what the fuck did you do?" you exclaimed while your eyes took in all of the scrapes and bruises. megan only shrugs, and you fight back every urge to hit her.

"i saved the day?"

"yeah, no shit sherlock. it was rhetorical." not wanting blood to stain your bed, you sat her down on your chair at your desk. fortunately, you kept a first aid box in your drawer. "don't make too much noise. my parents are asleep and they don't need to know spider-girl is in my room."

"you got it, ma'am." her hand came up to do a salute but it was hurting too much to keep it there. "ow.."

"i need this suit off," you said, but the smug grin and teasing look on megan's face makes you want to punch her. "stop with that look. i'm being deadass right now. i can't treat your wounds correctly."

"okay, okay, sorry..." it took about five minutes to get her out of the suit, four minutes longer compared to the first time, mostly due to how she was whining in pain. by the time the suit was off, she was left in a t-shirt and shorts. "jesus, you look like adam sandler," you pointed out.

"was that necessary?" megan frowned.

"no, but it had to be said." you opened the first aid box and grabbed a nearby cloth, making sure it's clean before putting it on her cut and applying slight pressure onto the wound. megan winces in pain, throwing her head back on the chair.

"i'm being as gentle as i can, you crybaby. stay still!" you scolded. when the bleeding was reduced to a minimum, you removed the bloody cloth from her cut, grimacing upon seeing the fabric soaked in red fluid. "oh my god.." you toss the cloth somewhere else, deciding it'll be a future you problem. right now, you're focused on wrapping bandages around her.

you lift her shirt, ordering her to hold it up for you, before grabbing the roll of bandages in the med kit. you unroll it and placed it over her wound, wrapping around her stomach a few times. once done, you got up and went over to your closet, getting one of your oversized shirts for megan– since she was taller than you by a whole lot. you toss her the shirt and turned around to let her change.

"you don't have to turn around, y'know?" she said while putting on the shirt.

"i feel obligated to," you shrugged. "that's stupid," she laughed. "ok, you can turn around now." you turned around to face her but all the air gets knocked out of your lungs. who knew she would look nice in your clothes, let alone look better in it than you do. "what? do i look pretty?" megan taunted.

"yeah– no. what?" you stuttered, blinking a couple times to get your act together. she only chuckles and shake her head, leaning back into the chair. you noticed how her face was pretty messed up and felt the need to take care of that too. "how well do you do with rubbing alcohol?" you ask vaguely. she seemed to have gotten the memo based on how terrified she looked.

"no! no. no. we're not doing that." she tried to protest but you were already soaking a cotton ball with the liquid. "yn..." she begged, clasping her hand together. "you don't have to be so cruel!"

"except for the fact i'm not cruel? you're just whiny." you dab at a cut on her cheek, and a hiss comes through her lips, her fingers gripping onto the arms of the chair to keep herself from whacking your arm away. "spidey, i swear to god if you don't sit still..." your patience was thinning at her squirming, but a part of you couldn't help but feel bad. "come on, i promise it'll be over in a jiffy."

megan was hesitant but eventually nods, giving into your sweet coaxing. over the course of about three minutes, megan felt like she was traveling to and back from hell. the burns of the alcohol was seeping into the cuts around her face, a deep frown implanting itself onto her forehead. "is it done? are we done? am i done?"

"almost." you throw the cotton ball into the trash, taking a mental note to throw away the trash and cloth in the morning. "just a few more small bandaids and you can rest." megan whines as you began to placed tiny bandaids on her wounds, wanting the night to be over with. "there. now, we're officially done."

megan internally cheers but remembered she has to go back home. maybe she could've treated her own wounds at her place instead of being fifteen minutes away from the comfort of her bed. "can i sleep over?" your head snaps towards her, a bewildered look in your eyes. you've never agreed to any of this and only did it out of the kindess of your own heart. so why couldn't you deny her request?

"...yeah. sure. you've had enough on your plate for one night." you went over to your bed, fixing up a couple things to make space for her. you placed a pillow and a blanket on the floor next to your bed. "i'll sleep on the floor."

"what? why? it's your bed," megan argued, getting up from the chair, putting the pillow and blanket back on the bed. "it'll be fine, right?" you couldn't come up with an excuse as to why sleeping in the same bed would be a bad idea, so you gave in. "guess not..." you mumble. you climbed in first, your side pressed against the wall as you tried to keep a reasonable amount of space between you two.

megan giggled and got in afterwards, staying on her side of the bed. there was an awkward moment until megan looks at you and opens her arms. you stared at her in disbelief, but you also wanted to be held by her. "come here," she beckoned. you shake your head and she kept persisting. it went back and forth for a while until megan had enough and pulled you in herself, tucking your head in her chest. "see? was it that hard?" she teased when she felt you melt into her.

"shut up, you're so annoying."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

💬 .FIRST QUARREL. ゜(suggestive)

MEGAN WAS TOO PROTECTIVE. she was constantly checking up on you during patrol or getting distracted trying to see if you're safe or not, resulting in her getting heavily injured. you were flattered at first, but it has gotten way too out of hand. you couldn't even go out with her not watching your every move from a nearby rooftop or whatnot!

you were walking in the streets, your mind wandering of how you could talk about this to her, ignoring the buzzing of your phone. suddenly, a loud noise roared behind you and a loud stomp made it feel like an earthquake was happening. you turned around to see some funny looking guy in a suit the size of hulk, his vision trained on you.myou swallowed hard, your feet slowly backing up with every step the villain took towards you.

spider-girl swings in a second later, her foot colliding with his face, sending him down. the fall was quite hard since the suit was heavy and practically made out of metal. megan quickly rushed over to you, pulling you into the nearby alleyway. "what're you doing? i texted you multiple times to go somewhere safe!"

"well i didn't see them! so stop blaming me so much!" you snapped, your hands shoving her chest, pushing her back. she moves your hand away a little roughly. "if you checked your phone, you would've!" she argues.

"megan, have you ever thought that you're too protective? because you are! every waking moment is you checking if i'm okay when i am!" you let out a frustrated huff, your hands on your hips. "it's getting annoying."

"i'm just watching out for you! you're a huge target since an enemy saw you with me!" her voice falters for a moment before she recollected herself. "i almost lost you once, and i'm not taking any more risks!" she referred to when you got kidnapped and held hostage, which made you end up in the hospital with serious injuries. you were barely breathing when she found you. "if i had arrived a minute later then, you wouldn't be here right now."

"that was then. spidey, it's been six months–"

"six months or not, it could've happened again today!" she raised her voice, surprising you a little. "you don't know the other universe i've been to, and in every single one of them, you weren't here with me." her resolve was slightly cracking, her chest rising and falling with every sentence she shouted at you. your lips parted in shock, your brain short-circuiting for a hot minute.

"i..." you stammered. you remember her talking about it a while ago, and how it scared her for a long period of time. you knew it was a sensitive topic. your hands cautiously held her face, your thumb rubbing her cheek over her mask. "but i'm here with you, right now, in this universe." she leaned into your touch while listening to your words carefully. "you don't have to worry so much."

"but i have to."

you shake your head, your fingers lifting her mask to only reveal her lips. "no you don't. deep down, if you think i'm safe and sound, then i most definitely am, okay?" you lean in and place a soft, reassuring kiss on her lips. you were about to pull away when megan places her hands on your waist, pulling you closer to her body. your eyes flutter closed and you relaxed into the kiss, your arms wrapping themselves around her shoulders.

you tilt your head to the side as your arms tightened around megan, feeling like there was too much space between you. a small whimper escaped her lips and it drove you crazy. the sound of your lips on each other filled the quiet alleyway. your nails dug into her back when she broke away and trailed down to your neck, her lips peppering featherlight kisses onto the curve of your jaw.

her thumbs snuck its way under your shirt, grazing the soft skin of your stomach. you arched your back a little further, letting her pull you flush against her front. your hands slid down slowly, from her back to her shoulders to her chest, clutching on her suit as you move your head to give her easier access to your neck. until a loud ringing tone from megan's phone broke you two away from each other. megan groans and takes her phone out, seeing it's the police needing her to help clear up the scene and to calm down the civilians.

"well... i gotta go..." she began, looking at you with a knowing look. "but..."

"you know where you should be tonight," you said. she grins and plants another kiss on your lips. "you bet i do."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

🤍 .ALL YOURS. ゜(slightly suggestive at end)

A SOFT KNOCK AT YOUR WINDOW let you know that megan was outside on the fire escape right outside your room. you smile to yourself, hanging the towel you were using to dry your hair over your chair. you walked over to the window, opening your blinds and lifting the glass upwards.

"hey, ma," megan greeted when you opened the window. she was upside down, her hands holding onto the web at held her up. you only rolled your eyes playfully, your elbows coming to rest on the window frame. "what're you doing here, spidey?" you ask but there was no signs of you wanting her to leave.

"what? can't i see my favorite girl?" her head leaned in and placed a soft, lingering kiss on your lips despite her mask still fully covering her face. you giggle at the absurdity of it all, your hands reaching up to lift her mask to reveal her lips.

"kiss me properly, idiot," you demanded playfully. megan listens and leaned in again, your lips officially connecting with hers. the kiss was tender, gentle– anything you would describe a kiss full of love. when you break away, you could only laugh, your head dipping and your shoulders shaking. "i can't with you being upside down," you chuckled.

"i can get down if you want." she didn't even wait for your answer when she let go of the web and landed on the fire exit with a small thud. you moved aside to let her climb through the window, making sure to make as little noise as possible so you both don't wake up your parents. "how's my angel?" she questions, her arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you into another kiss.

"never been better," you giggled, your head tilting up to meet her lips. "what about my pretty girl? everything alright? no injuries?"

"all clean and safe." she raised her hands up in mock surrender, showing no signs of serious wounds. your smile only widened and you engulf her into a hug. she hugged you back immediately, her arms wrapping around your torso, her hands resting on the small of your back. she buried her nose into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo mixed with your natural calming scent. "you smell so good, baby."

"do i?" you ask, flattered. she nods, her finger brushing away the stray hairs from your face. "i need to dry my hair."

"no, keep it like this. at least for a couple more minutes," she pleaded, smelling your hair again. "it smells really good."

"i can always give you my shampoo."

"mm, i like it better on you." you laugh, your head falling onto her shoulder. "have i ever told you how annoying you are, spidey?" you ask. megan pretends to ponder before lamely putting up her index finger like a nerd. "you have. multiple times. but i'm your annoying spidey, aren't i?"

"mhm," you hum softly, pecking her on the lips. "you're all mine."

"well i hoped i was." she gently places a hand on your chest, pushing back onto your bed. she crawled on top of you right after, her lips already sucking on your neck hungrily. "i'm afraid your hair won't be dry for a while," she murmured, her voice muffled by your skin.

"i'm fine with that."

– fin. –

@cinnamanz @ninguitar @lararajjj i lowk forgot my taglist

[iisayfa]

— STICKY SITUATION

megan skiendiel x fem!reader

summary: being spiderwoman and dating you at the same time has caused some problems for megan, and she's forced to confess who she is when you start suspecting her.

warnings/tags: fluff, established relationship, spidey!megan, language, not proofread

shit. shit. shit.

thirty minutes late. that has to be a new record for megan who was running down the streets of new york trying to get to the coffee shop she was supposed to meet you at. half an hour ago. the ginger hears her phone buzz in her pocket and she quickly takes it out, seeing your message. shit.

my love 💕

do we need to reschedule this? you could've told me you were busy

fuck. with shaky hands, megan types a response as best as she can while running.

megs ❣️

IM ALMSOT THERE I PROMSIW

you let out a short sigh, sitting back against the chair you were sitting in with two coffees sitting in front of you. setting your phone down on the table, your foot taps on the ground as you check the time on your watch. thirty minutes. what the hell was she even doing? she told you she was free, and yet she was now over half an hour late. biting on your bottom lip, you shake your head and start moving to get up right as the shop door busts open.

"yn!" megan rushes over to you, heavily panting from all the running she just did. "i'm so sorry i got caught up with something and i didn't mean to get here this late," she instantly apologizes, slouching into the chair across from you on the other side of the table.

there's something off. you can tell. it's been happening more recently. either she ends up leaving in the middle of your dates or shows up extremely late to the point you aren't sure if she even cares anymore. you'd been thinking about it more recently. but, you force a smile onto your face and shake your head. "it's okay," you reply. "i already got your drink."

megan's face flushes redder than it already was realizing you probably looked like you got stood up on a date and that you remembered what she ordered. "thanks. i'm really sorry again," she sighs, running her hand through her messy hair.

"are you okay?"

the question takes megan aback slightly, looking at you and seeing the expression on your face. "ye-yeah, i'm fine!" she answers with a nod. "just some things."

things. that's the only word she used as her excuse. even when you would pry you would get the same response. and your patience was wearing thin. with a deep breath, you close your eyes and try to think of how to respond, not seeing the way megan's eyes widen out of worry of what you're going to say next.

"meg, i think we need to talk," you say slowly, opening your eyes.

"what?" megan's voice comes out quiet. "about what?"

"about this." you gesture between you two with your hands. "why you leave in the middle of our dates, why you show up late, why you answer the same every time i ask what's going on. it feels like you don't really want me around you."

"what?" megan lets out again, her eyes wide with fear once realizing where this was going. "no, no, no, it's not like that, yn!" she says quickly. "i do want you around, i want you around all the time."

"then why are you so distant?" you ask. "these past few weeks i feel like, like you're making up lies to not see me or to leave. you always say 'things' but you never explicitly tell me what. what are these 'things', megan? or who? because i-i can't sit here feeling like you're not putting the same amount of effort i'm putting into this."

megan sits in silence for a moment, trying to think of a acceptable response rather than telling the truth or lying again. but, she already kept this from you for too long. you were getting suspicious of her, and she didn't want that. yet, the words don't leave her mouth, caught in her throat. "i-" she starts, but nothing else comes out.

shaking your head, you get up from your spot and grab your bag. "you don't need to say anything, i get it," you say. "enjoy the coffee, i already paid for it." you start walking away.

"wait!" megan gets up when you do, starting to follow you. "yn, you don't understand! i-i'm not doing anything!"

stopping in your tracks, you turn and face the girl with a serious look that has her stopping immediately. "you're right, megan. i don't understand. because you won't tell me. so if you want me to understand then you better figure your shit out, cause i'm not putting up with this anymore."

"yn," megan says softly but you've already turned around and started walking again. when you left the store, megan lets out a long sigh and drags her hands down her face.

she had to fix this. she had to tell you. she had to.

for the whole week, megan had been texting you and calling in hopes you'd respond and hear her out. but every time you declined the call or let it go to voicemail that was now filled with her messages, and every text was left read without a response. she knew she messed up, then. she even tried going to your friends, and they told her you didn't want to see her. she didn't know what to do. she wasn't good at this.

then, she got an idea.

after talking with manon about where you would be on the opening night of a movie you wanted to see, she came up with the idea. you two went to the same cinema every time you went to see a new movie, and it wasn't exactly in the greatest area of new york, but it was cheap for two high school graduates. and because of that, she was going to pay one of her guy friends to "save you" from. in the outfit and all. it would be easy, barely an inconvenience at that! she was certain that it would work.

"are you sure you won't hurt me?" keeho questions megan, standing in the alleyway next to the cinema with her.

"i'm 100% sure," megan answers with a nod, leaning against the wall already in her spider suit. "i've literally swung you around the city multiple times, dude."

"and you almost snapped my neck last time!" keeho exclaims.

"okay, well-"

the two go quiet once hearing a group of people talking and the doors of the cinema opening.

"alright, sound scary, okay?" megan tells keeho, pulling the mask over her head. "but don't touch her."

"i can't believe you're ordering me around." keeho rolls his eyes. "you owe me for this."

"i'm already paying you, asshole. now go." megan shoves him out of the alley once the group goes past them.

keeho straightens himself out right when you walk out of the cinema, and he starts walking towards you. you're looking at your phone, clearly not paying attention, and you haven't even met the male before, which has keeho mentally panicking already. "i can't believe i'm doing this," he grumbles under his breath.

reaching into his jacket pocket, as soon as he's in front of you he pulls out the fake knife and grabs you with his other hand. your eyes go wide and you open your mouth to scream but he's quick to cover your mouth and wrap his other arm around you to hold the knife against your throat with your back against his front.

"be quiet if you want to live," he says in a low voice. "i won't hurt you if you listen to me."

you try to scream, but it comes out muffled past his hand as you try to get out of his grip. but he was taller than you, making it difficult for you to try and kick him or move your arms that were stuck at your sides from his arm around you.

"walk with me," keeho tells you as he begins to walk backwards. you're forced to move along with him, your breathing starting to get heavier with panic raging through your body and eyes wide looking around only for no one to be in sight.

"please," you cry through his hand covering your mouth.

keeho mentally curses in his head for doing this, knowing it was a bad idea. but before he can say that he's not actually going to hurt you, he feels a hard kick against his back, making him yell out loud and let go of you and the fake knife. "fuck!"

keeho drops to his knees from the impact, releasing you from his grip as you move and take a few steps back to see him slowly get back up. "dude, what the fu-" he's interrupted when megan's fist swings towards his face and he quickly moves away like she told him to, acting as if he had been hit in the face.

as the two (fake) fight — mainly just keeho getting his ass beat, you watch with wide eyes, taking a few more steps back to see what was going on more clearly. when keeho finally lays on the ground and doesn't get back up, your stuck in your spot, staring at the vigilante who was now standing in front of you.

"are you okay?"

the voice sounds familiar, but the mask makes it sound a little distorted, making you wonder. "yeah," you answer, nodding your head. "thank you."

"are you still mad at me?"

"what?" you question. then, it hits you. "if that's you megan you better take that mask off right now," you say seriously, crossing your arms over your chest.

megan immediately takes the mask off, seeing the change in your eyes and expression realizing it really was her. "uh, surprise?" she says, nervously fiddling with the mask in her hands.

"jesus christ," you sigh quietly. "are you seriously the one who's been running around new york fighting all these different people?" you ask, your voice softening.

"yeah." megan nods. "i'm sorry for not telling you. i didn't know how to tell you, and i was worried that something might happen to you." she looks down at the ground.

you grab her hands that were still messing with her mask. "meg, look at me, please," you say. she listens, looking at you with her puppy eyes that instantly make you smile. "it's okay. i don't blame you for not telling me, i just wish you would've before something like this happened."

"oh, well about that," megan laughs nervously.

one of your eyebrows raise at her words. "what?"

"that's my friend keeho, i paid him to do that," megan confesses quickly.

"you actually kicked me!" keeho says, getting up from the ground and dusting his pants.

"are you fucking serious?" you look between the two.

"yeah," they both answer.

taking a deep breath, you keep yourself from scolding the two for genuinely scaring the shit out of you. megan can tell by the way your grip on her hands tighten, and she knows she's in for it when you get back home.

"we'll talk about this tomorrow," you say. "for now, have a good night, keeho." you smile at the male before turning to megan. "as for you, we are going to have a long talk about everything." your smile drops and you speak in a tone that megan knows means you're serious.

"okay," she squeaks out.

okay, maybe it wasn't the best idea. but at least it worked! that's all that mattered to megan in the end.

[iisayfa]

1. Meeting the fam

Translations before reading :

1. Ate = term for older sister

"Megan, hey, wake up," Daniela said as she shook Megan awake. The poor girl, still half asleep, rubbed her eyes and asked why.

"Sopia said we're almost there. Lock in and fix yourself girl." The latina let out a soft giggle as Megan's eyes widened.

"OMG IS MY HAIR OKAY?! LARA, CAN I BORROW YOUR MIRROR PLEASE???" Lara, who was on her phone the whole time, started reaching inside her bag. She gave the mirror to Megan, and the girl began fixing her hair.

And from the front of the van, Sophia alerted the members that they were already there. And all of a sudden, the car came to a stop.

They exited the car and were greeted by a warm welcome from Sophia's family. (basically this video)

An hour into their visit, a girl who looked to be 22 suddenly entered the room and jumped on Sophia's back. Sophia, caught by surprise, almost fell, her knees buckled.

"Who is thi—"

"ATE SOPHIA!! I MISSED YOU!!" Y/n hugged her older sister as tightly as she could. Upon realizing who it was, Sophia smiled and turned around to hug her dear little sister.

"Oh my god, Y/n! You're so late, but it doesn't matter. I missed you tooooo" Sophia, ever the doting older sister, hugged and hogged Y/n all to herself. Long enough for all the Katseye members to notice there was someone new in the house.

Sophia pulled away, "Okay okay, introduce yourself to my members." Y/n nods, and follows her sisters words.

The girl waved, "Hello, my name is Y/n Laforteza. I am so sorry for being late, rehearsals ended later than it was supposed to."

Megan felt her breathe hitch. Was she going crazy or was there a really, really hot girl in front of her right now? The girl tried to snap herself out of it, remembering this was literally Sophia's sibling.

"Wait, rehearsals? What for?" Manon asked, everyone elses nodding and interested too. "Oh, I play guitar for a band I'm in. It's called Gcell. We have a couple songs, and if you guys would want to check it out, we'd be really grateful."

"You're part of a band?! How old are you?" Daniela asked, and Y/n neatly responded.

"Oh, I'm 19."

Masterlist next

[iisayfa]

about dam time we broke up with that ho 😭🙏

love in transit

12. 'some' digging

scene twelve in session …

masterlist ᡣ𐭩 next

NOTES | kinda of slacked on making chapters today 😭

TAGLIST | @meizinisnumberone @hiraizyo @arihiu @artrizzler19 @1luvkarina @meiphobic @meganskiendielsbtc @fruityg0rl @kristalag @sunshinez4 @vrtualstar @yazzyminny ( closed .ᐟ )

[iisayfa]

— I hope she buys you flowers

pairing: daniela avanzini x fem!reader - megan skiendiel x fem!reader

synopsis: after abandoning you like a lost puppy because she was bored and tired of you, daniela began to realize how much you mean to her.

warning: angst, swearing. men please dni! normal texts is present, small and italic texts are past.

wc: 1.5k

Daniela’s POV

Sitting here alone at our villa while watching the other girls have fun, and there she is, my girl, or should I say Megan's girl. She used to be mine, mine to keep and mine alone, and now she's someone's girl, and all because I was stupid, so stupid to let her go.

"Dani? Are you coming? Y/N's about to blow her cake," Sophia asked me while applying her sunscreen.

my hearts breaks a little when i hear your name~

‘Y/N Isabel Laforteza my leader’s baby sister’

"Uhm, no, I'll probably go to my room; my head's kinda heavy," I said, standing up. Sophia looks at me with her 'I know you're lying' look.

"Dani," she said while putting the sunscreen on her bag, she's about to say something when I cut her off, "Not now, Sophia, I'm not ready," I said. "Not ready? Not ready to what? Face what you used to have?" she said.

"Sophia, please stop!" I said, frustrated. "No, Dani! I'm so done with this; I'm so done with your attitude! you're being unreasonable!" she said, furious.

"I’m unreasonable? Wow! Do you want me to be happy for them? Do you want me to just accept that my band member stole my girlfriend and you guys supported her? You’re the one who’s unreasonable!”

"Are you hearing yourself? No one stole Y/N from you! You broke her and left her like a puppy! And I’m unreasonable? You left my sister, Daniela, not just anyone but my sister! And I’m here trying to set aside everything that you’ve done to my sister just for this fucking group! So don’t tell me that I’m unreasonable when I’m here trying my best to be your leader when God knows how much I want to murder you right now, so do what you want! Go to your room and be the selfish bitch you are; I’m done with you!" she said and left.

“Sophia, I'm sorry” I tried saying, but she slams the door. ‘Nice one, , Dani. You’re such a great fucking bitch.’

~

That I should've bought you flowers and held your hand ~

“Dani? Can you please buy me some roses? I really love them” Y/N said while looking at the flower shop near the park. “What? No! They’ll die anyway; I don’t want to waste my money,” I said while looking at my phone, not even glancing at her. “Oh, okay, sorry,” she said.

We walk at the park for a while when I felt her hand holding mine. “What are you doing? ” i asked while pulling my hands “i uhm, i just want to hold your hands” she said looking down

“Are you hearing yourself? You act like you’re not Sophia’s sister! What if someone saw us? I don’t want to be involved in a dating scandal, Y/N” I said furiously and walked away without even looking back.

“Dani, i’m sorry” i heard her but i just ignored her

~

“Happy birthday, baby!” Megan said and kissed Y/N’s cheeks,

“You guys are so disgustingly sweet! ”Lara said, “Please, Megan, stop kissing my sister in front of me!” Sophia said, pulling Y/N away from Megan,

“You’re such a cock blocker, Ate!” Y/N said, rolling her eyes, “Then stop kissing in front of me! ”Sophia said, “I’m just happy, okay? She bought me flowers; no one has done it before” Y/N said mumbling the last part.

“Dani? Can you please buy me some roses? I really love them”

“I bought you flowers for your graduation. ”Sophia complained, “That's different” Y/N said. “Yes, Sophia, it's different; you're so old” Lara said, making the rest laugh. “I am not! ” Sophia said earning a giggle from Y/N

“Yes you are, so if you excuse me, i want to hold my girlfriend’s hand” Megan said pulling Y/N

“I, um, I just want to hold your hands.”

“Are you hearing yourself? You act like you’re not Sophia’s sister! What if someone saw us? I don’t want to be involved in a dating scandal, Y/N”

‘She looks so happy, not the same way when she’s with me. I really messed up, huh?’

~

Now I'll never, never get to clean up the mess I made, oh and that haunts me every time I close my eyes~

“Y/N, let’s break up. I’m so tired, and I’m bored of this relationship,” I said, looking at Y/N.

“What? You’re joking, right? It’s not a good joke, Dani,” she said, looking confused.

“I’m not; I’m done with us,” I said and walked away.

“Dani, please! Let’s talk!” She begged while following me, and I just walked towards my car. “Dani, please! You don’t mean that! Let’s fix this, please! I’ll do anything!” She begged , but I just went inside my car and left, leaving her there. Like a puppy.

*72 missed calls from Bae

*5 missed calls from our leader

*9 missed calls from Megan

~

“You guys did so well!” Y/N said while hugging Yoonchae, We just finished our MAMA performance.

“Really? Did you take some video?”Yoonchae asked, “You bet she did; she probably has a Megan fan cam on her phone” Lara said.

“Hey! I have some of you guys, meanie” Y/N said, pouting, ‘cute’

“Hey! Stop bullying my girlfriend. If you guys want a fan cam of yours, find yourself a partner and leave my woman alone” Megan said, pulling Y/N.

‘I have a partner; she used to be. I used to have those fan cams.’

~

Now my baby's dancin', but she's dancin' with another man~

ding dong~

“Dani, can you open the door, please?” Sophia said. “Okay,” I said, and I walked towards the door. I opened the door and saw Y/N.

After 2 months of not seeing her and not hearing anything from her, she’s here standing in front of me.

“What are you doing here? I told you we’re done,” I said. I’m about to close the door when I heard Megan, “Sophia, is that Y/N? ”Megan asked Sophia, “I don’t know; Dani opened the door! ” Sophia shouted from the kitchen.

“Well, as you can see, Daniela. I’m not here for you,” she said. I was about to say something when Megan ran towards the door, not even glancing at me. “Y/N! You’re here so early. You said you’d pick me up at 6:30, and it’s only 6. The reservation was 7, right? Did i read it wrong? ”Megan asked, panicking,

“You didn't read it wrong, Megan; I was just excited for our date, so I’m here, and I want to go somewhere before we go to the restaurant,” Y/N said, giggling.

‘Date??’

“Okay, let’s go. Sophia, we’re leaving” Megan shouted. “Okay! Be safe; take care of my sister! ” Sophia shouted; Megan and Y/N just left like I wasn't there.

I closed the door and walked towards me and Manon’s room while thinking about what I heard: ‘date? They’re going on a date?’

“You look like someone who has seen a ghost,” Manon said, laughing. “They’re going on a date,” I said. “who? ”Manon asked, “Megan and Y/N” I said. “Oh, um, yeah” Manon said, making me look at her in disbelief.

“You knew? You fucking knew?”I asked Mad, “Well, everyone of us knew. They’ve been talking for a month now,” she said, not even looking at me, just focused on her phone.

“Are you guys fucking serious?”I asked, “Yeah, and I don’t see any problem with that” she said, glaring at me. “She’s my fucking ex. ”I said, “and? ”Manon asked, closing her phone, “She’s my ex, and you let her date Megan?'What the fuck is wrong with you all??”I shouted at her.

“What’s going on?”Lara asked confused while entering our room. “You guys happened. You fucking let my ex date my bandmate and didn't even tell me! ”I shouted at the both of them, “Hold on! Who the hell do you think you are for us to tell you everything? You’re just her ex!” Lara said and walked towards me.

“What’s going on here? I heard someone shouting. ” Sophia entered the room while Yoonchae walked behind her.

“Well, Dani here is mad because we did not tell her about your sister and Megan! ”Lara said, “Why would we tell you? You didn't even tell my sister a reasonable reason when you left her; do you think you still have a right to know about it? ”Sophia said, looking at me in disbelief.

“Wow? So you’re teaming up now?”I said, laughing, “We're not; we just happened to use our brains, not like you! Who just left my sister in the park without any explanation, and now you’re mad because we did not tell you about her and Megan?” Sophia walks toward me. “Listen here, Daniela. Stay fucking away from my sister” Sophia said before walking out of the room, followed by the rest.

~

“Daniela, can we talk?”Y/N asked, “Of course” I said, and she sat in front of me.

“I just want to thank you,” she said, making me confused. “What do you mean? I didn't do anything” i asked confused

“Exactly, that’s why I’m thanking you. Thank you for abandoning me, because if you didn’t, I wouldn't be with Megan, right now. I won’t be happy the same way I am now, so thank you” she said before standing up.

“I’m too late, huh? ”I asked, she looks at me before smiling, “You’re far from being late, you’re done” she said before leaving me, leaving me the same way I did.

Oh, I know I'm probably much too late To try and apologize for my mistakes

tags: @cwpiqwon

[iisayfa]

OMG YESYES

hear a girl out

[iisayfa]

off topic but sinigang is so good i can relate ella

love in transit

03. sinigang

DISCLAIMER | angsty, harsh language, toxic men, physical abuse ( ? ) .

scene three in session …

y/n's pov :

i stood outside mateo's dorm, my heart racing with a mix of anxiety and frustration. "what are you doing to yourself y/n, god." i told myself, a quiet, bitter laugh leaving my lips. i knew i hadn't done anything wrong, but a part of me still felt guilty for not 'including' him.

a dejected sigh fell from my lips as i raised my hand to knock, but before i could, the door swung open. mateo's eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, i swear i saw a flicker of anger. then, his face softened into that annoyingly charming smile, and he opened his arms wide.

"hey, baby." he said, his voice low and husky. "i'm so sorry about snapping at you earlier. i was just worried about you."

i hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to react. but his warm smile and open arms were hard to resist. i stepped into his embrace, feeling a mix of emotions: guilt, anxiety, and a deep-seated desire to make things 'right.'

at first, the hug felt comforting, like coming home. his arms wrapped around me, holding me close. i breathed in the familiar scent of his cologne, feeling a sense of calm wash over me.

but as the seconds ticked by, standing under the doorway of his dorm, wrapped in each other's embrace, i started to feel a subtle tension creeping into his body. his arms, once gentle, tightened around me, his fingers digging slightly into my skin. the warmth of his hug began to feel suffocating, his grip bordering on painful.

"i was really worried, y/n," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. "i thought you cheated on me or something." he huffed.

i pulled back slightly, looking up at him. "baby, i—"

but he cut me off, his eyes narrowing. "don't call me that." he spat. "you didn't even answer my texts after your little party. what were you doing, huh? getting pounded in the back by some guy i bet."

i felt a spark of defensiveness ignite within me. "i just dropped sophia off back at her dorm?"

his expression darkened, his jaw clenched. "do you really think that's reasonable?"

the tension between us only escalated, the air thickening with unspoken accusations. i tried to push away from him, but his grip only tightened.

"let me go, mateo," i said, my voice firm but shaking slightly.

but he didn't release me. instead, he pulled me closer, his eyes now blazing with pure anger.

"you're dating me, remember?" he hissed, his breath hot against my skin. "meaning you'll do as i say, when i say it. i mean," he hummed ever so casually, his voice menacing and low. "what would your fans say if they saw you right now, being unfaithful to her boyfriend who only wants the best for her?"

i felt a cold dread creeping up my spine as mateo's anger escalated. i just wanted to get out of there, but my feet seemed rooted to the spot.

masterlist ᡣ𐭩 next

NOTES | somebody get poor ella her sinigang tho 🙌 sorry, wrong timing?? 😔 NO BUT FR, IM SORRY THIS CAME OUT KIND OF SHORT 😔😔

TAGLIST | @meizinisnumberone @hiraizyo @arihiu @artrizzler19 @1luvkarina @meiphobic @meganskiendielsbtc @fruityg0rl @kristalag @sunshinez4 @vrtualstar @yazzyminny ( closed .ᐟ )